


In The Arms Of An Angel

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Castiel in Charge, Conflict, Desperate Dean, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Protective Castiel, Sexy Times, Suicide Attempt, Wing Kink, references to past Wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to Broken, but is a standalone and need not be read together. In Broken, the apocalypse had come and the brothers were in hell, with Sam initially mind wiped, evil and believing he was the son of Lucifer. To save his brother and the world and to gain redemption, Sam sacrificed himself and turned time back to where the battle to prevent the seals from breaking is ongoing. Missing Sam, Dean is now broken and in his own personal hell. Castiel has watched his charge suffer long enough and finds he must do something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Wonderful banner made for us by the talented stawberynvanila
> 
> Co-written with Fetish
> 
> The lyrics used herein are from the song "In The Arms Of An Angel" (Sarah McLaughlin) and do not belong to us.

Hell was horror. Hell was pain every fucking day, every hour, every minute of your day. Time meant nothing, crept by. Hell was blood red and hotter than a furnace burning with blue fire.

_Hell tortured your body._

Home... earth... sucked hard. It was memories assaulting your mind, driving you crazy, every day, every hour, every minute of your day. Time meant nothing, nothing when your light was gone leaving you in darkness. Home was pitch black, cold as ice, and as sharp as a razor's blade.

_Home tortured your soul._

Dean was done. Done with it all, had been for the last three months. Not that he hadn't tried at first. Bobby told him not to waste Sam's gift. _Gift_... hah! Some gift that was, dying in his arms right on the cusp of a second chance. A second chance for them, a second chance for the world... to beat this Apocalypse. Didn't the jerk know? Didn't he realize all his life, Dean fought to make this a better world _for his kid brother._ For Sammy. And now he was gone, and there was nothing and no one to continue the fight for.

He'd listened to Castiel. Castiel who was adamant that God was out there. He'd gone from church to church, visited hundreds, lit a thousand candles to light Sam's way home. Had begged, pleaded, sworn to do anything that God requested of him. But the _Almighty_ was too busy, and the sound of silence in his _home_ was deafening.

He'd even listened to the demons, tried... tried to make a deal to bring Sam back. But no one, none of them were dealing. Not with Dean Winchester.

_'Spend all your time waiting  
For that second chance  
For a break that would make it okay'_

Sitting on the porch of the cabin on the lonely waterfront, Dean knocked back his beer, and tossed the bottle off, adding it to the large pyramid of bottles on the ground next to the porge. He took the other open beer and held it up. "Here you go Sammy... this one's the one with your name on it. To a second fucking chance that never came. Not for us." He choked as he took a couple swallows, and threw the bottle with enough force to shatter it against the others.

They'd been through so much. Always running. Running from their past. Running from who they were becoming. Running from demons, from angels. And yet, at the end of the day, when they kicked back with a brew... somehow things never seemed as bad as they were. Or they'd find something to laugh about, or go into planning mode, to make something better. _Find that second chance._

Even after the demons were crawling the earth, winning the war during the First Apocalypse, when like most hunters he had been confined to hell. When he'd had his insides handed to him over and over. And then when he'd been given to 'the son of Lucifer,' Sam, who couldn't remember him. Who'd been merciless. Who'd tortured him and hurt him more than any of those dark-eyed sons of bitches could hurt him. They'd found their second chance. They'd gotten Sam's memory back. And Sam... black wings and all... he'd been _his_ Sam. They'd had plans of getting out of hell, of fighting together again. Of beating the apocalypse. 

And then Sam had gone and sacrificed himself, used himself as an element of the ritual that turned time back... spat out all those who'd gone to hell as a result of the wars, and started the race between heaven, earth and hell all over again... back to a time when there were still seals left to be broken. 

He and his brother would do it. They'd beat this thing this time, together. They'd fight the demons, they'd stop the Apocalypse... that had been the plan. Not _the_ plan, it had been _Dean's_ plan. Sam's plan had been to...

His mind went back to the last moments of Sam's life, when he'd been dying in his arms and Dean had reminded him he'd promised they'd fight, they'd beat this thing _together_.

_Sam pressed his lips together as he drew in a breath through flared nostrils, "No... promised it'd be okay," he nodded, "s'okay now. I did it." Sam told him, even as feathers, great chunks of them, fell to the ground and started to blow away in the wind, leaving bald spots in the leathery skin of Sam's wings, blood seeping from the skin. "S' okay now." Sam told him softly, blood dribbling down his chin as his eyes slowly slid closed, his teeth clenching together against the pain that wracked his body. "I fixed it. Did the spell, my blood, Lucifer's son," he drew in a shaky breath, "S' fixed now."_

Dean jerked out of the chair shouting at his phantom brother. "You fixed it... you fixed _it_ but you broke _me_ , Goddamit, you broke me..." His voice cracked, and the familiar wetness streamed down his cheeks. "You broke me," he muttered, sniffing and heading down the wooden stairs, to the side of the cabin nestled behind trees. 

Hanging on the trees, in the house, everywhere... he had hex bags and he'd also angel proofed, using the script that had prevented the angels from finding the funeral home that Tessa had been imprisoned in. He staggered to the spot, an area he'd cleared of leaves, of anything that could catch fire. There were a couple of sacks of salt on the ground, and a shovel sticking out of the earth right next to where he'd started to dig a hole, six feet by three feet.

Maybe if he'd cut down on the liquor, this thing would be done. Instead, he dug a little at a time. He couldn't even do this right... no surprise there. He'd lost Sam how many times? To death, to evil, to hell, to sacrifice. There was no reason that he should be able to do this right. Not the big fuck up that was Dean Winchester.

_'Theres always one reason  
To feel not good enough   
And its hard at the end of the day'_

Jumping inside, he slammed his foot down over the metal shovel, pushing it down, lifting and throwing the earth out of the hole. Again, and again, his muscles straining as he tried to go faster. He didn't want one more night to go by. Not now, now that he'd made up his mind. To hell with the war. To hell with everyone else. He was done. Dean Winchester was done. 

A lump rose in his throat as he dug. He wondered vaguely where his brother was... where his spirit was now. Would it be down there, in hell? Would they meet again? Or would he fuck this up too? Goddamnit... why, why had he even been born? So that he'd get every fucking thing in his life wrong? Was that it? He looked up suddenly, and shouted, "was that the fucking master plan? Huh? Was it? Or is there no plan? Or maybe it's one big joke... is that it?" he spat, tears streaming once again down his now slightly dirty face. He wiped them away

_'So tired of the straight line  
And everywhere you turn  
There's vultures and thieves at your back  
And the storm keeps on twisting  
You keep on building the lie  
That you make up for all that you lack'_

He was waist deep in the hole now. Just a little further to go. Just a little more, he told himself as he kept the shovel moving. 

This was... yeah, it was so wrong. But what had doing things the right way gotten him? What had giving up a normal way of life, dragging his brother who'd half way climbed out of the hunters life into it, sacrificing themselves over and over in ways no one would believe... just what had that gotten them? Nothing. This world was full of lies. Heaven? It was empty of anything good. Angels... they were nothing but manipulative liars. And himself... "HA!" he shouted, he was no John Winchester. He wasn't half the man his father had been. Not even a quarter, even if he walked around announcing himself as the best hunter on earth. The louder, the more often he'd spoken those words, the more hollow they'd been.

_'I need some distraction  
Oh beautiful release  
Memory seeps from my veins  
Let me be empty  
And weightless and maybe  
Ill find some peace tonight'_

Done at last, he climbed out of the hole. Almost mechanically, he poured the salt from one of the sacks down, and poured gunpowder over it. Then he dropped the other sack of salt down into the hole. With leaden steps, he walked back to the porch, climbing them for one last time. He grabbed the whiskey, his favorite gun, and a worn picture. He ran his thumb over Sam's face, a lump the size of fucking Texas growing in his throat.

*

He didn't know how he got here, or how long it took him, but he was inside the grave now. Laying on his back. He'd spread salt and gunpowder over himself and there was a helluvalot of gunpowder under his head. Lifting the bottle, he knocked back some whiskey, Sam's picture held tightly in his other fist. It didn't matter now if it got wrinkled or more torn, it just mattered that it was here, with him. "Soon... soon little brother," he whispered hoarsely, dribbling the whiskey over himself. "I'll see you in hell Sammy... by God ... I . Will. See. You."

_'In the arms of an angel  
Fly away from here  
From this dark cold hotel room  
And the endlessness that you fear  
You are pulled from the wreckage  
Of your silent reverie  
Youre in the arms of the angel  
May you find some comfort there'_

The cold barrel felt good against his pallet. He stared at the blue sky, shaking... taking deep breaths.

_Count to three Sammy, then jump. I'll catch you. I'll catch you._

He heard his little brother's squeals in his head as he started to count out loud. "One. Two. Th--"


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel stood near the edge of the woods watching his charge, his face the same emotionless mask it always was. How long had it been now that Castiel had been here, watching over his charge? Watching and waiting, waiting for a sign from above that never seemed to come.

Castiel had tried to tell Dean that God was out there, that he could _feel_ it, that he knew his father wasn't ignoring Dean's pain, but the hunter didn't want his pain shared, he wanted his brother back. Something no demon nor angel could give him even if they wanted to, for Sam Winchester was in a place now where no one and nothing would ever touch him again, not angel nor demon. Only God himself. 

Only the fact that Castiel had followed Dean, never losing sight of him, made it possible for him to know Dean's location. It was evident that the hunter didn’t want to be found anymore. Not by anyone. 

Taking a deep breath, the angel's dark hair and beige trench coat blowing softly in the cool mountain breeze, azure eyes narrowed on the Winchester before him, watching him as he prepared for his own demise. 

Unbeknown to Dean, Castiel had previously appearing inside the cabin at nights, after the elder Winchester had passed out, his dreams always fitful as he thrashed in the bed, calling his brother's name. Once it had gotten so bad that Castiel had laid a hand on Dean's forehead to quiet him as he watched a tear track down his charge's cheek while he slept. 

Death... it was a hard thing, even for some angels to deal with, harder still for a big brother, friend and lover. Dean had been all of these things to Sam and more, all of heaven and hell knew it to be so. It was one of the very reasons why Dean was to be watched so closely after his brother died... after Sam used himself to fuel the spell that turned back time and changed the course of events. 

' _All roads lead to the same destination_ ' Castiel had told Dean that once... and sadly enough, it still held true. Even if history had stayed on course, Sam Winchester would have died before his brother. The end result, would have been the same, even if the hows and whys were altered. 

Watching as Dean crawled into the grave, the muscle in Castiel's jaw twitched. This was it, it was the sign he had been waiting for. Enough was enough. He was not going to allow his charge to hurt himself any longer. Stepping forward through the trees, Castiel stopped a few feet from the makeshift grave and raised a hand, arm outstretched. Flicking his wrist, the angel sent the gun flying from the Winchester's grip.

"Sonovabitch.... Goddamit... Goddamit... one thing, and I can't... fucking... get it right. One thing." Dean's jaw pulsed, his entire body still shook as he stared angrily through blurry eyes at Castiel. Did he have no idea how long it took him to reach that point where he could pull the trigger ... that he'd have to start over again. What it would cost him? He took a couple deep breaths. "Get outta here, you don't belong."

Castiel looked away from his charge, toward the cabin, muscle twitching in his jaw, eyes narrowed slightly. "We should go inside." 

"Are you even listening? Get the fuck out of here. Get out." The anger built inside Dean, doubling as Castiel looked at him as if he hadn't even spoken. 

Castiel took a measured step forward, couching beside the hole as his gaze roamed over the Winchester. "Yes, Dean. I heard you. And I know what you want to do," the angel said, voice devoid of emotion, though he gave a small sigh. "What if I told you that you won't see Sam this way?"

"What if I told you I'm going to ram the barrel of that gun you took from me up your ass," Dean countered, jackknifing up. "You have no right... _none_ to interfere with this, with me. I told you I was done. I _am_ done with you, all of you. Now leave me alone." He wasn't gonna listen. No more lies, no more pain, no more loneliness... the kind a hundred drinks or a thousand couldn't fill, couldn't take away... he should know.

Castiel rose to his full height with a nod, "Alright, suit yourself," he told Dean softly, as he started to turn, only to stop and look back over his shoulder, sapphire meeting and locking with jade. "Oh, and Sam... he's in heaven," Castiel shook his head. "Kill yourself and you will _never_ see your brother again."

It was like Castiel had taken that shovel and put it through his gut. Dean's hands went to his stomach. His muscles had tensed so much it hurt, and he wasn't sure he wasn't about to throw up. "Sam... in heaven. Is there a fucking heaven Cas?" he asked, tears blurring his eyes again. "And how does he get to go to this _heaven_ when every time before, it's been hell for us Winchesters." Yeah, they were a cursed bunch.

Castiel sighed and hug his head, slowly turning back around. "Yes," he answered as he lifted his head, "there _is_ a heaven, Dean... Sam is there. I know." The angel pressed his lips together as he regarded the Winchester before him. "Think Dean, think about _why_ it was that no demon would deal with you, why no matter how many candles you lit, Sam wasn't coming home. Think!" the angel demanded, showing more emotion that he normally ever did, nearly anger if one had to name it. "No demon would deal because they can no longer touch him, no candle can light his way because he is in the light of my father!" the angels eyes narrowed at the hunter daring him to argue. After a moment, Castiel's face fell into its normal passive expression. "And... I was told he was there," Castiel added more quietly. 

It took some time for the words to sink in. Some more time for Dean to come to a place where he could even believe them. He raised his chin. "Give me the gun, Castiel." His voice barely shook as he met the angel's gaze. "Hell was _better_ than this."

"Is _this_ what Sam gave his life for?" Cas asked, head tilting to one side as he looked at Dean. "Hell was better than ' _this_ ', because you had your brother," he shook his head, "none of that is there now. You remember hell without Sam," the angels gaze narrowed once more, "don't you, Dean?"

 

"Bastard." Dean crawled out of the fucking hole, slipping, and clawing to get out in his half drunk state. The first thing his eyes saw was Castiel's perfectly polished shoes. Pushing some of the soil over on them, he got up and walked away. He wasn't even allowed to die in peace... even that was denied to him.

Castiel watched his charge as he walked away to the cabin, muscle twitching in his jaw as the front door slammed closed. 

In a rustle of angel's wings, Castiel no longer stood next to the makeshift grave. 

Face devoid of emotion, Castiel stood behind the hunter watching him, "You need to let go." 

Dean spun around to find Castiel in his face. His nostrils flared. "Cas... I've told you... the hell," he sliced his hand through the air in frustration and put some space between them. "Don't... don't you fucking tell me to let go. I am not letting go. One thing... there was one. good. thing. in my life, one constant, and I am not letting it go." He sniffed, trying not to let the tears rain down again when they threatened to come. "I need you to go. Like now, Cas, I mean it." Grabbing the angel's trench coat, he shoved him toward the door. 

Castiel shook his head, holding himself in place. "I'm not going anywhere. I've watched you suffer long enough. You need to let go, and move on. Sam is dead, Dean. There is nothing you can do. _This_ is not going to bring him back." 

"Let go! Move on? Why you sonovabitch." Without thinking, Dean punched the angel in the jaw, barely biting down on a howl of pain as he flexed his hand and shook it out, sure his knuckles were broken... and yet Cas was standing there looking at him impassively. "You can't do this," he said hoarsely. "I am ordering you out of my place. I don't want you around... any of you, anyone. I want to be alone, you get that? You don't get a say in this, it's my life. My death. My fucking choice." 

"You're wrong there, Dean, it is my business," Castiel told him, sighing softly, as he looked away, toward a window. Walking over to it, the angel clasped his hands behind his back, "I wonder what _Sam_ ," he began, peering back at Dean from the corner of his eye, before returning his gaze to looking out the window, "would make of your actions."

"Don't." He took a few audible breaths, looking down at his dirty jeans. "Don't say his name. Don't ..." he pointed a crooked finger at the angel. "Just stop." He was tearing him up from the inside out, and doing it like he was ordering french-fries.

"Do you want me to tell you what Sam would say?" Castiel asked, as if Dean hadn't spoken.

"No. What I want is for you to leave me alone. I've had enough... I really... really have."

Castiel turned away from the window to face the hunter, sapphire eyes narrowing. "He would want to know why it is that you are doing this to yourself. He would tell you that he died... for _you_." The angel shook his head. "It wasn't for," his gaze darted about the room, "others," he said, his gaze finding Dean once more as he gave a small nod, "it was for you." He took a step toward the hunter. "Are you going to allow your brother who you claim to love _so_ much," he sighed softly, azure eyes seeming nearly sympathetic, "... are you going to allow his death to be in vain?" 

"I didn't ask him to die for me. I didn't _want him_ to die for me. Goddamit, I didn't choose this. It's the _last_ thing I'd choose, last!" he shouted. Why was Castiel doing this to him? Cutting him up worse than he already was, making him eat broken glass. "You should have let me die. This..." he pointed once again at the angel. "This is hell."

Castiel shook his head. "No, you didn't ask for it, but you would have done the same thing had it been your blood that could have changed things. You know you would have. And you would have expected Sam to go on without you, just like you did when you sold your soul for him." The angel stepped up to the elder Winchester, his face in Dean's space as he narrowed his eyes. "Sam wanted redemption, would you take that away from him just so you don't have to be alone?"

"He has his redemption. You said he's in heaven, or was that a lie?" He cocked his head. "And Sam didn't go on, did he? He went to Ruby and he doped himself up. Well I'm _not_ stronger than him. It's over. Just get it in your head Castiel, it's over. Accept it. _Get over it._ "

"Sam... chose an unrighteous path, yes." Castiel allowed, "though you know you expected better of him." He tilted his head, "Or should Sam have made you promise before he died for you not to do anything stupid?" he asked, quirking a brow before pulling his head up. "Yes, Sam is in heaven. The things you do might not be able to touch him, but do you think it makes him happy to see you like this?" 

"Shut up. Just shut up." His eyes grew wild, he tore them away from Castiel and walked to the other window, wiping his face with his grimy hands. He stank like liquor, and it was making him sick. But the thought that Sam could... that he was out there watching... No. Castiel was lying. He was a Goddamned liar, like everyone else.  
The angel's intense blue gaze followed Dean. "Angels talk, Dean... I believe Anna told you that," he said softly.

"You'd say anything."

"I've never lied to you, Dean." 

Dean only had silence for the angel. His heart hurt. His entire body hurt. From the inside. From the outside. There was nothing left. Nothing. "You're wasting your time," he whispered hoarsely, turning, avoiding the angel's crystal stare, and walking into the next room. There wasn't a door, so he couldn't even slam a fucking thing. Without bothering to wash up, wash off, he just tossed his wet shirt off, left it on the ground and flopped down on the bed onto his stomach. Castiel would get bored and leave. 

In a flutter of wings, Castiel slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand gently on Dean's back. "It's good to grieve, Dean, but afterward, you have to let go. For both of you." The angel sighed, "Sam is not in your past, he's in your future. But it has to be a future my father gives you, not one you make on your own."

The sound of wings had Dean stiffening. He remembered Sam's wings, the same rush of sound as they fluttered above them. The soft feathers touching his face... his skin. The feathers that rained down, scattered with the wind as his brother lay on the ground ... dying. 

"I don't believe in your father. And if he hasn't kicked the bucket, then what the hell is he good for? Nothing," he ground out, tasting bitterness on his tongue, He didn't want to be touched, didn't want pity, didn't want anything. He tried to shrug Castiel's hand off, feeling tears prick his eyes. "I want ... I need some privacy," he said through gritted teeth, fighting the building urge to cry. "I need you to leave."

"No, you need me to stay." Castiel told him softly as he moved his hand slowly up and down Dean's back in what was meant as a soothing gesture. "I've seen humans cry before Dean... seen you cry before. I'll... be here if you need me."

"I don't need _you_." He wanted one thing only. Sam... over him, under him, tasting him. He wanted his brother. Good, evil... didn't matter, it just had to be his brother. "And what I do need..." he sniffed. "It's not in this world anymore."

"I was hoping not to have to do this," Castiel mumbled as he pulled from the bed, walking over to the nightstand Dean was facing. Reaching out, the angel pulled open the draw, glancing at Dean. "May I?" Yeah, Castiel had been watching Dean closely enough to know that he kept a hunting knife in there.

Barely lifting his head to look, Dean shrugged. If he was lucky, Cas would put him out of his misery... then maybe he could see Sam. Maybe. Then again, when had he ever been lucky at anything other than women and cards?

The angel gave a small nod and pulled out the knife, unsheathing it. Azure orbs darted to the hunter before Castiel pulled the material covering his arm up, then brought the blade against it, slicing open his skin. Turning toward the wall, he dipped his finger into his blood and began to draw angel script on it. The angel finished and turned, giving the hunter a nod. "You don't have long. Say what you have to, and let him go." He took a step backward away from the wall, revealing Sam standing there looking sadly down at Dean. 

"Dean?" Sam whispered his brother's name.

Dean was up and with his arms around his brother in a fraction of a second, pulling him close, hugging him so tight that neither of them could breath. "Sam... Sammy," he held on for a moment longer, his face buried in his brother's neck, before pulling his head back to search his face. This was no illusion. It was Sam. He struggled to speak. Now that his brother was here, why were the words sticking in his throat? Why the hell was that? "S..." He swallowed. "I miss you. I miss you so bad Sam... so fucking bad," he crushed him close again.

Sam held his brother against him, his gaze going to the angel who stood across the room silently watching, before Sam slowly closed his eyes, turning his head to press his lips against Dean's neck. "Miss you too. Love you," he told Dean softly. 

That was when Dean started to cry. Very few sounds escaped him, but his shoulders shook and he struggled for each breath. "Need you. Sammy..." his fingers dug into his brother’s shoulder blades. "I can't do this. You can't leave me here. Please..." he didn't know what he was asking for, only that he couldn't live like this, not another day.

Sam sighed as he slowly, carefully pulled back enough so he could look into Dean's face. "Dean, look at me," he shook his head, "I'm not really here, I mean, I am, but not forever, not for good. I can't be." He glanced over at Castiel before looking back at Dean, "Cas, he's doing this." He leaned in, brushing his lips across his brother's cheek, kissing away tears. "I need you to do something for me, Dean. You have to go on without me. I - I'm gone, but this - this isn't you. Be _you_ , please." Sam bit his lip as he looked at his brother, "For me."

"This _is_ me. Only one thing could break me. You. You broke me in hell," he nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Built me up. For what Sam.... just to fucking break me again? Don't you dare leave me, don't you dare Sam. I won't forgive you, I swear... I'll _never_ forgive you," he said through clenched teeth, gripping Sam even tighter, desperate to keep him.

Sam sighed. "Dean, I can't stay. You know that as well as I do. What the hell did we do all our lives if not get rid of supernatural stuff, huh? Well, guess what I am!" he huffed and shook his head. "Yeah, I know what I did, and the only thing I'm glad I did back there in hell," he paused and licked his lips, "besides falling for my brother," he gave a dimpled smile, "is using _my_ blood to turn things back. I fixed this, Dean. _Me_ , I did it. Little Sammy Winchester." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, then slowly opening them he looked intently into Dean's face. "You know how dad was your hero? Well... you've always been mine." He gave a small shy smile, "so be my hero." Sam nodded, jaw tilting at a stubborn angle, "be the Dean I know and love. Stop mourning over me, please. Be proud of me." 

Sam's image began to fade, his grip on Dean loosening, fingers starting to slip through him like a ghost. "I have to go, Dean. Times up, I'm sorry." 

"No Sam... no... no Goddammit... it wasn't your job to fix shit, it's mine... mine... Sam... Sam!" he shouted as his brother slipped out of his fingers and he dropped down to his knees on the floor. "Sam!" His shout echoed around him, echoed in his head, mixed with memories of his shout when his brother died... twice. 

Sniffling, he looked at Castiel. "Bring him back."

Castiel hung his head, looking up at Dean sadly from under his brows as he shook his head. "No," he answered softly, "I can't."

"Please. I am begging you. Cas please," he said thickly, voice breaking.

Castiel lifted his head, muscle twitching in his jaw. "I can't. I'm sorry. I told you it wouldn't last long... it didn't. Anything you had to say, you should have said. I've done as much as I could."

Dean nodded, swallowed his grief, his bitterness, and got up. Wiping his face with his hand, he walked to the bathroom, and shut the door. His drama had played long enough in front of an audience. This was one place he'd have privacy. Turning the shower on, he stripped his pants and shorts off, then stepped under scalding hot water, hardly aware that his skin was red and blistering. Then he let it all out then, his cries masked by the sound of rushing water, his face pressed against tile, pushing against it, trying to hurt ... trying to feel. 

"Sam..." Something snapped inside Dean and he started to bang his forehead against the white tile, blood running down its slick surface, erased by water, and then fresh blood running again. Over and over, he hit his head until he slid down do the ground, and sat in a heap in the corner, water in his face, in his nose and mouth, choking, but hardly caring anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel waited outside the bathroom for as long as he dared, until he heard the banging sounds and knew Dean was hurting himself. In a rustle of wings, he was standing over the hunter, fully dressed as the shower spray soaked them both. Bending, he reached for Dean, pulling him up.

"Don't... Don't Cas," Dean protested, trying to pull away from the angel's grip, but somehow ending up leaning against him, against his chest, his chin on Cas's shoulder. The wet trench coat stuck to him under the spray of water, flapped between his legs. "It's not... fair. It's not how it's supposed to end." When his legs would have buckled, he felt Castiel's arms go around him, hold him up. "I never... never asked for a fairytale ending. But for five minutes... five fucking minutes before I found out what Sam did... I was this close... this close," he pinched his thumb and index fingers together. "This close... and it was all taken."

Castiel pressed his lips together for a moment, brow furrowing. "As fleeting as it would have been, I'm sure that you would have," he paused searching for the word, " _enjoyed_ your time with Sam," he finished with a small nod as he slowly started to back them both out of the shower stall, the hunter still held tightly in his arms. 

"Enjoyed?" Dean practically choked on the word as he thought about the two of them rushing away from the collapsing earth, helping his weakening brother to hobble... carrying his weight, before Sam dropped to the ground. "Should have known. You'd never understand. You don't feel a fucking thing." That's what Dean wanted for himself, not to feel a fucking thing... and Castiel had taken it away. In the back of his mind, a voice asked whether hell would be better... and that voice, it was Castiel's... cool, calm, collected and fucking irritating. 

Dean didn't even remember stepping out of the shower with Castiel, but there they were, standing, dripping on the bathroom floor. The silence... it was almost more comforting than any words Cas could say. The angel seemed to usually say the wrong things... or maybe everything was wrong for Dean these days.

Reaching for a towel, Castiel wrapped it around his charge, before he once again pulled him up against his frame, holding onto him tightly. "He wants you to be proud of him, Dean. There are many things that you will never understand. God -" he sighed, pressing his lips together. "This way was best. Just have faith in that, Sam got the redemption he wanted this way." 

Had events been altered and Sam died another way, there was no guarantee that he would have gone to heaven, as it was it was only his self sacrifice that had allowed him entrance into the pearly gates after, everything else that had happened. Sam had his redemption. Dean forced a smile. "I am. Proud of him. I need a drink." Realizing he was in the angel's arms, he started to pull away. 

"Yes, you do. Coffee, I believe it is." Castiel gave a nod, slowly sliding his arms from around the hunter, azure gaze intent on jade. 

"Coffee for you. Something with a...kick, for me." He had trouble holding the angel's gaze, and was first to look away. He headed for the door, stopped and spoke over his shoulder. "I need a minute to dress." Never mind that he'd been butt naked just a few moments ago.

Castiel gave a small nod, "I'll wait right here," he answered, standing in the middle of the bathroom, his trench and clothes dripping water onto the floor, dark hair matted to his head, water dripping off to run down the angels forehead and off his nose.

A few minutes later, Dean had changed into sweat pants and a tee. First, he secured a bottle of unopened whiskey, then he started but stopped heading for the sofa, and instead went to the open kitchen to reach into a cabinet. He'd given up on using glasses for quite a while, but he grabbed two now. When he turned his head, he watched Castiel walk in, still dripping all over the place. "You look ridiculous. Get changed or something. There... I think there’s something clean in that drawer," he used the bottle to point back toward the bedroom. In contrast to his calm voice, his hand shook as he got the bottle opened.

Frowning at the idea that he looked ridiculous, the angel looked down at himself, and then back up, his head turning in the direction Dean pointed the bottle. Turning back, he watched Dean open the liquor with shaking hands. Crossing the small space that separated them, Castiel took hold of the bottle, his gaze on Dean's face. "Let me," he told him, words soft though still lacking any real emotion. 

Dean gave a huff, as if it was Castiel's fault he was a mess, but he released the bottle. "Pour yourself one too," he nodded toward the extra glass. He'd been drinking alone... for months now.

The angel didn't object when Dean told him to pour his own, only did as his charge asked him to, placing the bottle down on the counter after. Turning around, Castiel's sapphire gaze pinned Dean. "This is not going to bring him back and it is not going to make the pain go away." 

"No. Not away," Dean agreed. "Takes the edge off. Makes it easier. Bearable." That was a laugh. He searched the angel's eyes to see if he was trying to shame him, 'cause really, it was too late for that. He didn't really care what anyone thought about him, they were probably right anyway. "You ever lost anyone?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

"My brothers and sisters die every day fighting demons, Dean." 

"You have a thousand brothers and sisters, I have... _had_... one." His stretched out his arm, fingers curling tightly around the glass. "You even _feel_ anything, other than regret? You feel anything inside, Castiel... like a hole that nothing can fill? Until you feel that, don't ... don't lecture me on getting over this."

Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Dean. "The way I felt for a brief moment when Raphael said that our father was dead? Before I chose to have faith in something that no other angel seems to?" he nodded, "Yes, Dean. I have."

Dean nodded. He remembered Castiel's face, remembered he'd been affected. He lifted his chin, and met the angel's eyes. "Have _you_ let go? Did you give up on _your_ father?" He felt the questions as if he himself was being stabbed by the sharpest knives, but he put them out there, cause if Castiel wanted to tell him how he should live, how he should move on, he'd better be prepared to face the same questions and demands.

Castiel sighed as he hung his head. Pulling his head up, he looked intently at the hunter. "No." he answered, "but if I am wrong, then I will have to continue to exist without him."

Shaking his head, Dean lifted his glass. "Might as well start drinking with me now."

Castiel glanced down at the drink sitting beside him on the counter, before returning his gaze to the Winchester before him. "I know you don't believe in my father. It doesn't mean I'm wrong." Sighing, he stepped past his charge. "So what are your plans now? Now that you have seen Sam, know that he is in heaven." He turned his head to look back at Dean. "Do you still want to return to hell so badly?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "No." He lifted the glass and drank half its contents, the familiar burn a little reassuring. By the time the night was out, he'd be through that bottle, alone... or with company. 

Castiel gave a nod. "Then my punishment will be worth it," he mumbled softly.

Dean licked his lips. "What punishment? For what?"

"What I told you before was true. No demon or angel can touch Sam now," he swallowed, "but I did. I brought him here for you. It is," he tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he thought of the word he wanted, "forbidden."

"How will they know? Wha..." He knocked back the rest of his drink. He might not care about anyone anymore, but that didn't mean he wanted Castiel, or anyone else, taking one for him.

Castiel gave a nod, face expressionless. "They know. Knew as soon as I did it. It doesn't matter, the point is I did what was necessary."

"I didn't ask you to take any knocks for me. Dammit," closing his eyes for a second, Dean reached for the bottle again.

"No," Castiel agreed, "It was my decision... to help a friend."

What could he say to that? "You should change." Cradling his glass, Dean looked down at the amber liquid. "Then... you know, go. You should know by now, I'm nothing but trouble."

Castiel shook his head, glancing down at himself before he looked back at the hunter. "If I change," he paused, "I'll just stay here until my clothes dry." 

"Mine not good enough?" Dean raised a brow, then grabbing the bottle and the glass, walked to the sofa and sat down. 

Castiel frowned. "I didn't say -" he sighed and hung his head. Dean was obviously in a mood to be difficult no matter what he said. "The clothes?" Castiel glanced toward the drawer Dean had indicated and then back at Dean before walking through the doorless entry to the bedroom and opening the drawer. He pulled out a pair of navy blue sweats and a t-shirt before looking back over at Dean. "I'll just use your facilities." 

"Knock yourself out," Dean nodded. Now that he'd gotten it through his thick head that Castiel was not leaving, he accepted it and was much more interested in how fast he could reach oblivion. He grabbed a candy bar off the coffee table ... dinner... tearing the paper open with his teeth, and taking a bite. It was just to appease his complaining stomach, it gave him no pleasure. Nothing seemed to these days. He hadn't even had the t.v. on in... he didn't know how much time. 

Castiel gave a small nod before stepping silently away into the bathroom. It was only a matter of moments before he was back, standing, where Dean would likely say was too close to the hunter, dressed now in the sweats and t-shirt, his feet bare. He'd toweled off his hair, and it was now tousled and in disarray.

Dean looked up at Cas, down, then back up again when the angel didn't move. "Any particular reason you're... towering over me?" Hell, their knees were practically touching.

Castiel stared at him. "Just watching over what's mine."

The intensity in Castiel's eyes had him pausing a beat, then Dean whispered, "Too late."

Castiel's head cocked to the side as he looked at Dean. "You think that you are no longer mine?"

Dean wiped his hand over his face, put his hand out and gently gripped the side of Castiel's knee. "I think you're too late to watch over me. My need... to be watched over... it's gone now." Cas hadn't been there when he'd lost his brother, no one had been. "But thanks for the gesture." His hand slipped off Cas, and was back around his glass. 

"Your brother never belonged to me," Castiel told him, "or to any angel for that matter. And he would have died anyway, Dean. Even if it wasn't that day, with those events. I've told you before, all roads lead to the same destination. Your brother was destined to die before you."

"If you can't change destiny then why the hell are you trying to protect me? Why do angels, like your boss, try to make people do things?" He lifted the glass and drank deep. They'd been over this crap before. It was circular and never made sense.

"We've discussed this matter before," Castiel told him, before turning to pace away over to look out the window, "and Zachariah is not my _boss_ in the way that you see it. We have ranks, Dean. He outranks me." The angel sighed, "you can't change destiny. You saw what happens when you try." 

Dean gave him a look. As always, the angel sidestepped the question. How the hell could Cas help him if Dean's destiny was set? They stayed there in silence, Dean steadily drinking and getting drunker, Castiel at the window... once in a while looking at him with disappointed eyes. Dean didn't give a fuck, he wasn't feeling any pain now. No, that wasn't right... if he hadn't cried earlier, he'd probably be depressed and crying now... that happened with the alcohol too. But right now, he was all out of tears.

*

Hours later, Dean pushed up off the sofa, banging his knee into the coffee table. He raised his hand, to prevent the too helpful angel from coming over, and then he did his best to make it to the other room, and flop onto the bed, face first. It was cold, but he was out before he could pull up the blankets.

Castiel sighed as he watched Dean walk out of the room and into the bedroom. Hanging his head a moment, the angel returned his attention to the window and thoughts of how it was that he could possibly help his charge. 

Time passed, but Castiel wasn't sure just how much. When you were from heaven, a place where a second there could be a millennium on earth, the whole concept was pretty much a moot point, but soon the angel could hear Dean mumbling, softly crying out in his sleep for hnis dead brother. Turning from the window, the angel padded barefooted to the bedroom. Going to the side of the bed, he took a seat beside Dean's thrashing form, lifting a hand to his charge's forehead, smoothing away the frown lines. "Shshsh, it's alright, Dean," Castiel told him softly. 

"Sam." Dean's hand curled tightly round the cool hand on his forehead. Boredom and pain, always followed by Sam's soothing touches. "Sammy..." Before the hand slipped away, Dean grabbed his arm and tugged him close, felt his warm breath on his face and lifted up to kiss him. 

Castiel held perfectly still as Dean called for Sam a soft sigh escaping as the muscle in his jaw twitched, wishing there was more he could do to ease the pain his charge was in. When Dean tugged him in close, the angel caught himself with a hand against the mattress to keep from completely landing on top of the hunter, his face inches away from Dean's. 

Dean's mouth slid along his cheek, then found his lips. 

Castiel frowned, brow furrowing at the press of lips upon his cheek, sliding to his mouth. 

Opening his mouth, Dean waited for the familiar invasion of his brother's tongue, and when it never came, he gave a sob of sheer distress.

As Dean's lips parted, Castiel looked at him through azure eyes narrowed in confusion. He didn't understand why his human was opening to him, when he was obviously _not_ his brother. At the sob that tore from Dean's throat, Castiel pressed his lips together and lifted his head upwards to touch his lips against the hunter's forehead. "Shshsh, sweet sleep, Dean," he whispered softly.

"Please... please," Dean begged, thrashing to find his lover's mouth again. "One more time, once more baby, please... oh God, please," he cried hoarsely, "help me...help me."

Pulling his head back slowly, Castiel sighed as he looked down into Dean's anguished face. With a look of determination on his face, jaw muscle twitching as he prepared himself for it, talked himself through doing this. After all, it was a simple human thing and he was an angel, he could do this. Castiel dipped his head, brushing his lips across Dean's. "Shshsh, now you have to calm down," Castiel spoke softly, breaths fanning the hunter's lips, before he leaned in again, pressing his lips against Dean's once more. 

Immediately, Dean put his arms around his lover's shoulders and met his mouth, kissed him, teased the seam of his lips. _Kiss me. Put your tongue inside. Show me who's the master. Show me who I belong to._ The gentle pressure of lips against his didn't satisfy him, didn't fill the hole in his heart. "Why won't you kiss me? What did I do now?" He choked out, feeling hot tears spill down his cheeks as he started to wake.  
Castiel opened his mouth and closed it, lips pressed together firmly as he gave a small huff. _What did he do now..._ Taking a deep breath, Castiel, angel of the Lord, made a decision. Slanting his mouth over Dean's, lips parted, tentatively, timidly, he pushed his tongue just inside the hunter's mouth. 

At last. Dean groaned and tangled his tongue with his lover's, pulling him down on top of him. The weight on top of his body felt good, like it would keep him grounded. Good but not... not quite right. He didn't care, he just wanted anything his lover would give him. He ran his hand down his chest. More differences. Lean and muscular, but nowhere near as chiseled as he should be. But he was warm, and even a little of him was better than nothing. "What's wrong? Need me to play with your feathers?" he asked, mashing his mouth against his lover's again he moved his hand down his shoulders.

Castiel tried to keep up with the human, unused to such intense displays of affection. It wasn't that angels didn't know, they knew a lot. After all, they'd been watching humans now since the first one. Actually, some of the things angels knew would likely scare most people. But, knowing didn't equate with _doing_ , so even as Castiel tried to think of every kiss he had ever seen, tried to remember the few memories of Jimmy Novak's he had accidently stumbled on, he was still left scurrying to catch up with the hunter in the kissing department. 

At the mention of touching his feathers Castiel's eyes shot open, looking down into Dean's way too close face. So close the angel could have counted his eyelashes, freckles and pores if he'd wanted to. Touching his feathers? The angel inside Jimmy Novak's form gave a small shudder at the thought as a low moan working out of Castiel's throat.

That was more like it. Dean knew the very idea of having his feathers touched would affect his lover. "Yeah I know you _don't_ like it... but you _do_ like it," he mumbled, searching between his lover's shoulder blades as he kissed him again. 

Sam hadn't liked to have his wings touched? The notion made the angel's mind spin almost as much as the kissing was. 

Usually, after a few touches, Sam's wings would appear. Dean lifted his head, "Come on baby, lemme kiss your wings," he said against his soft throat, perplexed. "Where..." All he could find was smooth skin under the tee shirt.

Dean pulled back suddenly, awake. His chest rose and fell as he tried to understand. It wasn't Sam. It was... "Cas?"

Castiel gazed down into his charge's way too close eyes. "Dean."

"What?" Dean licked his lips. Didn't taste like Sam. "I thought you were..." he swallowed. "I thought... wanted..." As Castiel rolled off him, Dean followed, burying his face in the angel's chest. He knew the angel had been trying to help him. "It's never gonna end, is it? Never."

Castiel wrapped his arms around his charge, holding him close. "Why didn't Sam like his wings touched?" he asked, instead of trying to answer a question that he couldn't.

"Why..." A heartbreaking smile lifted the corners of Dean's mouth as memories washed over him. "He... hated losing control. When I touched him, kissed him there... he'd..." tears filled his eyes. "He'd come apart in my arms. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn't help it. He couldn't control himself, and he couldn't control... me." He wiped his tear streaked face on Cas' tee, holding onto the memories of his brother.

The angel nodded his head, frowning thoughtfully before moving slightly to hug Dean closer. "Those are things you should think about, remember. Let them guide you into the next day. I'm sorry there was nothing that could be done to save him for you, Dean." He looked down at his charge. "I would have done that for you, if -" Castiel didn't finish his sentence, only sighed heavily, muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked away.

Dean's jaw hardened for a moment, but the words got through. Cas had broken rules for him, and he didn't lie. "I wish... yeah, okay. I know," he forced out the admission that he believed him, sniffling and laying his face back down on the angel's chest. "You don't... You don't think he could have redeemed himself, here... if he'd..." Yeah, he was getting Cas all wet with his Goddamned tears. Hadn't they run out?

Castiel sighed softly. "Dean, I would advise you not to do this to yourself. As an angel, I've seen kings turned to cripples, grand cities turned to salt and the one thing that you can be sure of is never knowing why, could it have been dealt with differently, could someone have made a difference," he shook his head. "In the end, what does it matter? It has already happened, asking those questions will only tear open the wound in your heart."

"So I should have no questions. No dreams. Easier to say than do, Castiel. Even a Goddamn bottle of whiskey later I still ask, I still dream." He swallowed. "In heaven. What ... what's it like for a person. Has... has Sam _moved on._?" Was this fucking hell a one way street, or was his brother suffering too?

"In heaven... the only reason Sam knows about your pain is that the angels gossip. He," the angel shook his head, "he knows nothing about it. Knows nothing about pain or suffering, about heartache or depression. In heaven, everything is... paradise." A muscle twitched in the angel's jaw, "just like my father promised it would be."

Lifting his head, Dean searched Castiel's face, then lay down. "G'night Cas." As the angel's arms tightened around him, his eyes fluttered shut.

_You're in the arms of the angel  
May you find some comfort here_


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, eyes still half closed, Dean stumbled into the living room, then to the kitchen, searching for the whiskey. Seeing none on the counters, he opened the cabinet and found it filled with food where there had been bottles. He frowned and turned to see Castiel coming in, carrying some chopped wood, and tossing it into the fireplace.

It took half a second for Dean to figure it out. "Where's the whiskey?" When the angel turned his clear blue gaze toward him, Dean repeated. "Where's my fucking whiskey, Cas."

"It worked well as fuel for the bonfire I lit earlier. I got rid of some of the debris you left littered around the cabin," Castiel told him, voice emotionless. The angel had changed back into his own clothes in the middle of the night, though now he had the sleeves of his trench and dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

"What?! NO!" Desperation crept through Dean as he started to go through every cabinet, every fucking drawer, slamming them shut as he walked around. "Fuck." He stalked to the living room, checked behind the sofa, then out on the porch. Nothing. Eyes wild, he walked back in. "You have no right to do this, Goddamn you. Now where the fuck are my keys?" he demanded, having noticed they weren't on the table by the door.

Castiel's gaze settled on Dean. "Not where you left them." 

In a few strides, Dean was in front of Cas, hands gripping his trench and shirt and pulling him close. "I'm not gonna ask again. Where are my keys?"

Castiel stared into Dean's eyes. "Safe." 

"Give them to me. I mean it, Cas... give them back." Dean shook the angel, anger flaring in his eyes. 

A muscle in Castiel's jaw twitched as he looked intently at his charge. "No."

Enraged, Dean started patting the angel down, searching down his chest, his front pocket, and down his sides, then the back of his pants. "Just fucking give them to me," he ground out, hands rough and demanding.

Castiel stood stock still watching Dean, his body jerking about slightly from Dean's rough manhandling as he searched him over. "I can't. I don't have them." It was true. Castiel knew his charge only too well, so he had called to Anna in the early predawn hours, giving the keys to her and asking her to keep them safe.

Dean bent down, running his hands down Cas' pant legs then shot back up, hand going around Castiel's throat as he pushed the angel back. "I'm not gonna ask you again. Give me what's mine."

Castiel gave a slight shake of his head as he stared unflinchingly into Dean's angry jade eyes. "No."

Something snapped inside of Dean. Drawing back his fist, he punched Castiel, over and over, grunting with pain at each contact of his fist with the angel's face, but unable to stop himself. 

With each punch, Castiel's head snapped to the side, but otherwise the angel's face remained and emotionless mask. 

"Son... of.... a .... bitch..." Dean kept hitting, and hitting, until the skin was gone from his knuckles, until there was a good chance they were broken or fractured, until he ran out of energy and dropped down on his knees, shaking his hands out. "I ... need my liquor. Go torture someone else... just fucking leave me alone," he said brokenly, his body shaking with need for his morning fix.  
"You don't need the alcohol. You'll be fine." Castiel told him, as he tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck.

"I don't need YOU. Get out, just fucking leave me alone. Just leave me alone," he roared, wondering if he'd make the forty mile hike to town. Not in this shape...

"I can't leave you," Castiel told him, eyes glittering as he stared at his charge. "You're mine... and you need me. Whether you know it or not."

"Fuck you." Dean got up, headed for the door, and slammed it behind him. Fine, he'd go hot wire his own damned car. Only after he got down the porch stairs and started heading to the road, he saw it wasn't there. His car wasn't there. His shout of anger had the birds flying off the trees, their wings beating as they were startled out of their peaceful existence. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit. 

Walking around the house, Dean reached the grave he'd dug himself. He didn't really know what he was doing here, just that he was angry and hurt, feeling betrayed and hopeless. Would he be at peace if he were in that grave right now? He knew what hell was like. Fuck.

Castiel appeared silently behind Dean, watching him closely, muscle in his jaw twitching.

Maybe there was a bottle under his bed. Dean turned to go inside and check and almost fell back into the grave when he found Castiel standing there. He barely had any room on that edge of the hole and they were so close that he could feel Castiel's body heat emanating through his clothes. He remembered the comfort the angel had offered last night. It didn't make a difference right now, when he was standing between him and his liquor. 

"It's not in there. I got all of them. Heaven sees things, angels gossip," Castiel told him, voice dead of emotion, and his face expressionless. 

"I am so sick of you. You wanna help me? Kill me." He grabbed Castiel's arms and locked gazes with him. "Do it. Set me free Cas. You care about me, then help me."

Castiel sighed softly before giving a small curt nod. "I am helping you, Dean."

"No you're not. You're hurting me. Standing here, talking to you, without my liquor? It hurts. It hurts bad," Dean said. "But you don't give a damn about that. You don't feel, but you can dictate how people should feel. You don't know what it feels like to need something to get by with, nah... but you can take it away from someone, right? You're one twisted angel, Cas." Pushing him, Dean brushed past the angel.

Castiel turned his head, watching Dean storm angrily away before sapphire eyes darted heavenward as he said a quick prayer... for both of them.

* * *

It was late afternoon. Dean had refused to eat anything, any of the food that Castiel made or warmed up. He just told the angel to get out of the room, and lay on the bed. 

The shakes had started hours ago. He hurt all over and there wasn't a damned thing inside the house that could numb him. He'd even looked through his medical shit, and everything with alcohol or pain killer... it was gone. It had been so long since he could feel, but now every sharp edge of his memories cut up his insides, grief surged up, a thousand particles of shattered glass tearing him apart. The knowledge that he was _alone_ in this world now, that there was no changing things this time, no bringing Sam back, no making deals, no way out.... it was heavy, crushing down on his chest until he couldn't breathe. 

Then the sobs came. Uneven sounds breaking from Dean, separated by broken gasps for air. He was lost... he was a lost man, with no hope. None. There was no relief for his pain. No salvation. 

Castiel had done as Dean requested and left him alone, to an extent. He'd simply waited in the other room.... knowing that it was only a matter of time before Dean was going to need him. That the pain he had been blocking for so long was going to come crashing in on him like a landslide. 

Hearing the Winchester's sobs, Castiel appeared inside the bedroom, standing in the shadows, azure orbs intent on the hunter. Making his way over to the bed, the angel slowly sat down on its edge and reached a hand out to smooth over Dean's forehead. "Shshsh, it's alright."

Alright? It would never be alright, couldn't be. Dean tried to hide from Castiel's gaze, turning his face toward his hand, sobbing just a little harder as his emotions went haywire and refused to come to order. "Oh... God... oh God Cas... oh God."  
The angel moved, swinging his legs up onto the bed as he scooted down, lying next to Dean, and wrapping his arms around him. "Just," Castiel paused, licking his lips as he tried to think of the term, "let it out." 

"He turned back time. Why can't I... why Cas. Why?" he asked through tears, letting the angel hold him, taking the comfort he offered. "Why the fuck was I even born? My life's been a cosmic joke... don't let Dean Winchester get five minutes in the sun, kick him down. I keep getting up, keep fighting, but I'm tired... I'm tired Cas... I just want to rest... I want out... I want out," he gripped the lapel of Castiel's trench coat tight in his fist.

Castiel sighed softly, tightening his hold on the hunter. "You can't turn back time," he told Dean softly, "not without severe ramifications. Sam knew this." Running a hand over Dean's back Castiel stared off toward the far wall. "You were born, Dean," he shook his head, "for the same reason all humans are born... for my father to love." He tilted his head down, his gaze on Dean, "And I think you had your five minutes in the sun. Some people don't even get that." He lifted his head slightly, pressing his lips to the hunter's forehead, kissing him softly there. "What you are upset about, what hurts, what has you in knots, is that it was taken from you," the angel gave a small nod, "it's understandable." 

"People... normal people, they don't get five minutes," he buried his face in Castiel's throat, still shaking. "They get years and years, they walk around under a 'lucky star.' It's like I... no all of us, the Winchesters, we're fucking cursed... like we're carrying that unlucky rabbits foot with us." He swallowed as he felt the angel feather another kiss across his forehead. "And it never stops, not until we're six feet under... not until we're dead."

Castiel didn't argue, didn't point out again that some people never got _anything_ , not even five minutes. Instead the angel dipped his head, brushing his lips softly against Dean's. "Shshsh," he gave a small nod. "I know, I know," he whispered softly before his lips pressed once again against the hunters, lips parting slightly as he kissed him softly.

The gentle kisses hardly registered at first. They were light touches, as impersonal and comforting as any of Castiel's other touches, his pats, his strokes. Familiar. It was only when he found himself grinding his mouth against Cas', silently pleading for the angel to get more physical, that it sank in... he was kissing Castiel... he was mouth to mouth with the angel, holding tight to him, needing him. "Nothing to live for.... nothing to look forward to," he said between kisses.

Castiel slanted his mouth a little more firmly over Dean's, remembering the way Dean had kissed him in his sleep when he had thought he was Sam, remembering the things he had seen over centuries, but never had the opportunity to try, and remembering, from the few times he'd looked into Jimmy Novak's mind, the way he'd kissed his wife in life. Castiel kissed his charge, his tongue running over his lips, darting into his mouth, sliding hesitantly against his tongue, then growing bolder, engaging Dean, tangling their tongues together. "Always tomorrow," Castiel told Dean softly between kisses, "a new day is dawning. There's always tomorrow."

"Today hurts." Dean clung to the angel, wringing every last kiss he could from him, afraid that when this stopped, he'd be cold again. Shaking. Lost. Castiel was like a buoy that he could swim towards, that would hold him up for a rest. "Mmm," he groaned as Castiel's tongue explored the inside of his mouth, taking his breath away. "Tomorrow will hurt more," he predicted, as they broke the kiss in order to breathe. 

"Every day will get better. You just have to let it." Castiel countered, brushing his lips over Dean's again. 

"No. Not sure I want it to... don't care," he answered, eyes closing as Castiel kissed him again. It was nice. It took his mind off other things. But not enough. Dean pulled away suddenly. "Please... please Cas, I'm begging. I need a drink... I need it, please... if you give a shit about me..." He stroked the angel's face, eyes intent on his.

Castiel sighed softly, shaking his head as he looked at his charge. "Wait," he spoke softly, raising the index and middle fingers of one hand to Dean's forehead as he closed his eyes. 

In a flash, Castiel was inside the hunter's mind, seeing bits of his time with Sam in hell, the way they loved. Hearing conversations between the two, feeling Dean's love for his brother, the heartbreak as he held him in his arms as Sam died. Felt a piece of Dean die right along with his brother. 

Slowly the angel blinked open his eyes, azure blue sparkling in the dim light as he gazed at Dean. His intention had been to sooth Dean, however Castiel had learned a great deal in the process. "He never stopped loving you," Castiel told him softly, "even when he didn't know who he was. He still loved you. Always will, Dean. You might be apart, but that will never die." Leaning in, Castiel slanted his mouth over Dean's, kissing him again. 

Something had taken the edge off. Maybe it was the kissing, maybe it was the way Cas made his move... maybe he triggered Dean's instincts, something. All Dean knew was that five minutes ago, he'd been hurting a whole lot worse. "Mmm," he lifted his head, trying to get a little more pressure, trying to encourage Castiel to deepen the kiss. His arms slid around the angel's waist, the material of his trench coat wrinkling under his hands.  
Moving over the hunter, Castiel slid his tongue between his plump full lips and along Dean's own tongue, flicking the roof of his mouth with the tip. A low soft moan broke from the angel's throat as his arm around Dean tightened, the other rising to his hair, digits threading through the soft short strands. 

In the back of his mind, Dean wondered why the angel was doing this. But once Cas became a little more assertive, he stopped thinking. If this was how Cas was going to pay him back for taking the liquor, find him a few minutes of peace, freedom from the terrible pain, the loneliness, Dean wasn't gonna stop him. At first, he knew it wasn't 'exactly' what he needed, wanted, but once Cas moved against him, it was 'exactly' what Dean needed. "More... more Cas," he pleaded, his hands scrambling to pull the angel's trench coat off.

Castiel's hands pulls from Dean, one at a time as he shrugged off the trench, before returning once more to run over his charge, their lips crushed together, tongues tangled, low moans breaking from deep in their throats, swallowed up in the kiss. "Still don't... really know... what I'm doing," Castiel told Dean breathlessly between kisses, having never had sex before, it wasn't a lie. The angel gave a small curt nod when their lips parted once more, "I'll figure it out."

"Sacrificing yourself..." Dean's hands stilled. "I don't need your pity sex, Cas," he licked his lips and looked away, even as his body arched helplessly toward the angel. 

Castiel frowned in confusion, tilting his head, "Pity sex?" 

"Yeah. You don't want this... you're just..." he blew out a few hot breaths and started pushing Castiel away. "You don't have to do this." 

Castiel stubbornly didn't budge as he frowned at his charge. "I don't? And why is that... exactly?"

"You've never done this, and now you're... you're doing this?" Dean managed a forced smug look. "I know I'm hot, but attracting a virgin angel? We both know why you're doing this. It's not because you want it, you're just trying to... help me, distract me, whatever." Okay, it was working, but he didn't fucking need the added weight of knowing that he'd made Castiel break yet another rule. "Or you'd never be slumming..." Once again, he tried to push Cas up.

A muscle in Castiel's jaw pulsed though he still refused to budge, his sapphire gaze intent on Dean. "I am not.. _slumming_ , Dean. I know very well what I am doing. I just..." he sighed softly. "I didn't want you to... expect too much. First time." He tore his gaze from Dean's. 

"Why. Why are you doing it?" that was the question. Dean's hand bunched around Castiel's shirt at his lower back, fighting the need to buck against him. 

Castiel looked back at his charge, holding his gaze for a long moment before speaking. "I was," Castiel paused trying to think of a way to explain the unexplainable to a human. "In your mind. I saw, felt..." he sighed softly. "I know how you felt, _feel_ about your brother, Dean."

Dean looked down. "I didn't know I felt like that until... until hell. Some things are better left unknown." He'd still be grieving for Sam, for his brother. Would it hurt any less if he hadn't found another layer of love with Sam in that short time they'd been in hell? He didn't know. Licking his lips, he looked up. "And you're... you're trying to fill that gap?" Dean didn't know if that was even possible. For a few minutes, hours maybe.  
Castiel gave a small shake of his head. "Not fill the gap. Maybe show you something else?"

"Why? Because we're friends?" Dean swallowed. "You're already in a pile of trouble for bringing him back, I think you should quit now." He didn't want Castiel to get in more trouble, he did like the angel, even when he made him hella angry and frustrated. He brushed his mouth against Cas'. "Thanks for the offer, it's the thought that counts." 

Castiel looked down, his head hanging slightly as he gave a nod, a look of what could almost be deemed as sadness on his face.

Dean swallowed over the lump in his throat. "Probably best that you just... just hold me, then." He rolled over to his side, no longer having Cas' weight on him, maybe it was best for more than one reason. "Don't let go," he asked, feeling like he'd fly away if Cas' arms weren't tight around him. He pressed his face against the angel's chest and closed his eyes, tired... even though it wasn't dark yet, he was so fucking tired.

Castiel sighed softly as he shook his head. "Not letting go, Dean. Not ever letting go." the angel answered, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead.


	5. Chapter 5

It was late at night, maybe early morning when Dean woke. True to his word, Cas hadn't let him go. This was the first time in months that he'd gotten more than a few minutes of shut eye at a time. Cas was warm, like a blanket around him. Silent, but somehow letting him know he was there, that he cared, that he gave a shit for the fuck-up that he, Dean Winchester was. "Thanks Cas," he said thickly, pulling away from the angel and sitting up, legs swung off the bed as he took a deep breath. "You know you don't have to baby sit me anymore. I'm not gonna off myself."

Big words, but hadn't he been the one who begged the angel not to let go of him?  
Castiel slowly sat up, giving the Winchester a nod, "I would hope not." Pulling from the bed, Castiel paced to the foot of the bed, his gaze flickering over to Dean. "How did you know?" he asked. "The way you felt about Sam, how did you know?"

"How'd I?" Dean tracked Castiel back and forth, a bit of discomfort coming over him at the topic. "I always loved him... brother," he nodded. "You mean 'like that.'" He licked his lips. "You know he lost his memories? He wasn't really very nice when he thought he was the son of Lucifer." Dean didn't dwell on the torture, he'd let that go almost too easily once he'd regained his brother. "We had sex." It had been anything but voluntary at first. "I guess I thought I'd lost him, completely. And then I started seeing flashes of Sam... my Sam...and I don't know, it wasn't just sex, and it wasn't just the love I had for my brother. It was more than the sum of both. It... it kinda hit me between the eyes, the knowledge that I needed him, but I needed him kissing me, touching me, being with me ..." His eyes teared up. "Shortest fucked-up romance ever, huh?"

Castiel shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest, one hand raised, fingers toying with his bottom lip, frowning deep in thought, "No," he answered, glancing up at Dean, "It's not actually." pulling his hand from his mouth, he waved it dismissively, "there have been others," he stated with a sigh before his arms fell to his sides.

Dean rolled his eyes, blinking back the tears.

Clasping his hands behind his back, the angel paced, head bowed. "So, you would not have known that you had these feelings had you not," he looked up at Dean, "had sex?" 

That had Dean thinking long and hard. "It never occurred to me. Not really... I mean... it’s all kinds'a taboo." He licked his lips and shook his head. "Nah, I don't think I'd have known. I don't even know if it was there all along, or if it happened after." Shaking his head again, he asked. "Why are you asking me all these questions? This supposed to be... therapy?"

Castiel frowned as he shook his head, hanging it once more. "Maybe." Slowly the angel raised his head again, azure orbs staring intently into jade. "I doubt for whom you think."

"Seriously not in any condition to figure out your cryptic statements." Rubbing his temples, Dean gave the angel an inquiring look. 

Castiel shook his head, standing straighter, head raised as he looked at his charge. "Nothing. It was..." the angel tore his gaze away, taking a step toward the bedroom door, "nothing."

"Nothing? You just had me baring my soul... and it's nothing?" 

Castiel stared off into the next room, jaw set muscle twitching. "I was... mistaken," he answered eventually, voice devoid of emotion.

"About what?" Was he saying that he did not love his brother? Or what? He pushed off the bed, and started walking toward the door, stopping near Cas. "You're not gonna tell me? I'm supposed to figure it out? Don't have the brain power right now."

Castiel looked over at is charge, eyeing him for a long moment. "You should eat something."

He opened his mouth to argue, but he knew how Cas could be. "If it's possible, you've gotten more stubborn since I last saw you." He saw something in the depths of Castiel's eyes, even though the angel's face was as impassive as ever. Maybe it was worry. Or guilt... he really did have Dean over a barrel here, stranding him, and forcing him to stay clean. Giving a half shrug, Dean walked into the living room and out of habit went straight to the coffee table littered with wrappers to grab a candy bar.

Castiel watched Dean walk past him, following a few moments later. The angel stood just inside the living room, staring off, face a blank mask, though internally the angel was trying to figure out what it was he felt, how he felt, the oddity _that_ he felt for this Winchester. 

Tearing the wrapper off two candy bars at the same time, Dean took a bite. Once again, he felt the need for just a little drink, but he knew Cas' answer, and that it wouldn't be worth wasting his breath. Still, when he looked over at him, the angel looked... troubled? "You alright?" 

Castiel's sapphire gaze darted over to Dean. "My charge lost his only brother and is now a borderline depressive drunk," he gave a small nod, tearing his gaze away, "Yes, I'm fine."

"I'm not a drunk... I can't be drunk, thanks to you," Dean echoed the angel's sarcasm. He took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and asked. "How do you get off the hook? Tell me, and I'll do whatever it takes."

Castiel looked back at Dean, brows furrowing, "Off the hook?" he shook his head, "What _hook_?"

"Your charge, how do you get off the hook... free? Can't be fun having me for a charge," he snorted. "Then you could stop looking worried and I could... do what I do."

A muscle twitched in Castiel's jaw as he looked away, taking slow measured steps toward the window, looking out. "No." his voice was soft, but the single word held finality. 

"No what, Cas? No you can't get off the hook, no it's fun," he made a sound of disbelief, "or no... you'll never get rid of that worried look?" Crushing the papers in his hand and tossing them, he walked to Cas, standing right behind him. "You're frustrating me again. It can't be good... you know, 'in my condition.'" 

Looking over his shoulder at the Winchester, Castiel slowly turned to face him. "We are _not_ having this conversation." 

Dean cocked his head. "Why not? You get to ask me what you want, and somehow this is off limits. That's crap." His eyes demanded an answer. 

Castiel's azure gaze locked with Dean's, his jaw set, muscle twitching before he finally at long length gave a weary sigh, tearing his gaze away, and pacing past Dean as he looked away. "You can't stop it. There is no 'out,’" he spoke as he paced, "no getting 'off the hook', Dean," the angel told him, turning to look back at him. "You would have had to have never been pulled from Perdition, not by me, and you and I both know what happens when you try to turn back time," he told him, eyes narrowing, before he jerked his gaze away, pacing back toward the window, gazing out. "Not that I would want to change it." 

"You're a masochist, you know that?" Dean laughed. "Either that or you're a sucker for fuck-ups."

Castiel clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to gaze out the window. "Aren't all angels?"

"Suckers for fuck-ups? I don't think so... not the ones I've had the pleasure of meeting." He grabbed Cas' arm and turned him around. "Is there... something deeper going on? I..." Yeah there was an undercurrent, something he didn't get, but it was there. "It's bad news, isn't it? Something happened..." 

Castiel's sapphire gaze studied Dean's face for a long moment and in that moment, the Angel of the Lord knew he would fight hell's legions for Dean. He swallowed, tearing his gaze from Dean's, glancing down before looking back out the window once more. "I don't think it's... bad news," he told Dean, giving a small barely there nod. "But yes, something has happened."

"You don't have to sugar coat." Dean was at the point where he doubted anything could be worse than what he'd been through, both physically and mentally. Every hurt that could be suffered was etched somewhere, invisible maybe, but it was somewhere on his body. 

Castiel gave his head a small head shake. "It's nothing for you to concern yourself with, Dean."

Giving up, Dean suddenly felt tired. Wordlessly, he walked back to the bedroom and fell face down on the bed. There wasn't much fight left in him, not for the world, and not for arguing. The world had pretty much worn him down. He couldn't concentrate or care about anything for too long. With or without the bottle.

* * * 

After having stood there a while Castiel had walked into the bedroom, simply standing watch over his charge, unmoving from the spot. Dean still hadn't eaten anything, not anything of real nutritional value. Even an angel knew that. Hours passed before Castiel looked toward the kitchen with a soft sigh. 

Glancing back at his charge, he headed into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator door. Anna had been the one to get him all of the food for the house, half of which he had no idea what to do with. Other than Jimmy's memory of making spaghetti, the angel was at a bit of a loss. There were however several packs of lunchmeat inside the fridge, so Castiel reached in taking them all out, along with a bottle of yellow.... 'mustard' the bottle said... and a jar of white.... 'mayonnaise'... He frowned at the bottle of red 'ketchup' for a long while before deciding to go with just what he had. Reaching for the cheeses, Anna had thankfully only grabbed three kinds, not that Castiel was sure which went with what or why, but he grabbed all three of them, then the bread and set about making a sandwich for Dean. 

Frowning at the sandwich that was nearly as tall as a roll of toilet paper, Castiel sighed. Well, he hadn't been able to make up his mind which meat to use, so he's tossed ham, chicken, turkey, roast beef and salami all onto the bread, then all three cheeses, American, Swiss, and Jack. After that, there had been the sauces, and the first one in the squeeze bottle.... well, it had decided to sort of erupt on him and half the counter was now tinged with yellow, even after he had tried to wipe it up with.... what was the thing called again? Oh, right... a 'paper towel'. Not that he saw what was very 'towelly' about it....or 'papery' for that matter. 

The mayo had been easier, though he hadn't thought about getting a knife to get any of the stuff out, and instead had used his fingers to reach in and smear it onto the bread. That had been okay... until his hand was covered in mayo and he was still holding onto the messy towels from the mustard fiasco in the other hand. Luckily, Castiel had caught sight of the trash can at about the same time so he could toss the towels away and turn on the water to wash his now mayo slathered hand. 

Well, he wasn't exactly sure if he had done this very well or not, but it had to be better than candy bars and alcohol. Jaw clenched as if he had just fought and conquered a horde of demons, Castiel grabbed up the plate that the sandwich sat on and turned, walking back into the bedroom. 

Standing beside the bed, he cleared his throat. "Dean," Castiel mumbled as he held the plate out in front of himself, face an emotionless mask as he stared at the wall before him. When he didn't get an answer, he glanced back down at his charge. "Dean." And still nothing. With a sigh, the angel moved to sit down on the side of the bed next to the hunter. "Dean, I have," his gaze rose to the sandwich," _something_ here for you to eat."

"Don't want anything to _eat_ " The plate was suddenly in front of him and Dean was forced to look at it. He cocked his head one way, then the other, blinking at the messiest sandwich he'd seen in his life. Mayo was squeezing out of its sides, it had more meat it in than any sandwich he'd ever made himself... and that was saying something. "This your comedy routine? Laughter is good for the soul and all that?" Pushing up, Dean sat against the headboard, looking at Cas and trying to fight the urge to laugh. 

Castiel looked from Dean to the sandwich and back, "I should have put the red... um, 'ketchup' on it?"

Wiping his face with his hand, Dean shook his head. "No. It's... fine." He took the plate. "Would be better with a shot." He dared to meet the angel's eyes. "Everyone knows sandwiches and shots go together like... ketchup and fries."  
Castiel quirked a brow, "Not according to Anna. She told me that was what the... pickles?.....were for." he shook his head, "but I didn't open them." He sighed softly, "There was a small incident with the mustard." 

"Mustard's evil that way," Dean agreed, having no idea what type of incident Cas was talking about. He opened his mouth wide and took a bite, if only to appease Castiel. A mouthful of mayo took him by surprise. He forced it down, then pulled the bread off the sandwich, looked at Cas, and wiped some of the white stuff off onto the plate. "Watching my... weight."

Castiel gave a small nod. "Mayo seems to be evil too."

"Trick is in the wrist," Dean tried to look serious, but his mouth kept turning up at the corners. He didn't really want to laugh, dammit. He also wanted to rearrange the damned sandwich, and that's exactly what he started to do, occasionally licking the mayo and mustard off his fingers.

Castiel watched his charge in silence, wondering exactly when it was that he had come to think of Dean as 'beautiful'. The angel's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched him. He also wondered when it was that he started to care if Dean was pleased with what he did or not. Really care. 

Azure hued orbs flickered to Dean's mouth as he licked his fingers, bringing to the angels mind thoughts of when they had kissed. How soft Dean's lips had been, the way he tasted. As his gaze flickered up more, he studied the way the light seemed to catch the gold in his jade eyes, the spattering of freckles that ran across his nose.

Dean's gaze met Cas', shifted away as he continued to rearrange and eat a little more, but went back to the Angel's. The way Cas was looking at him was a little disconcerting. It wasn't one of his usual penetrating looks, it was... different. "Did I get mustard on my nose?" Instead of the usual impassive expression, he thought he glimpsed a bit of a guilty look on the angel's face. He licked his lips and set the sandwich down, never taking his eyes off Cas'.

Pursing his lips, Castiel dropped his gaze from Dean to look down at the bed before turning his head toward the room's lone window and pulling to his feet. Walking over to it, Castiel stood gazing out. "Finish your sandwich... my apologies." 

"For?" He let out a frustrated breath and put the plate down on the bed. "You want something from me?" He was pretty sure Castiel was getting ready to deliver a lecture or make a request, and was having trouble spitting it out or something. Weird, cause the angel never had such trouble voicing his strong opinions or telling it like it was before. 

Did he want something from Dean.... A muscle in Castiel's jaw twitched at the question, though his gaze remained out the window. He had started to think he knew what he was feeling for his charge, but then when Dean said that he didn't know he was in love with Sam until after they had slept together, he wasn't so sure anymore. Didn't know why he looked forward to seeing him, why it was when he couldn't find Dean that he would panic. Didn't understand why he felt the need to be around him, near him. Just sit and listen to him talk. He had thought it was a friendship before, but then they had kissed and... Castiel sighed, "I don't think so." he answered Dean's question at long last. 

"Really?" Dean didn't believe him. Bet Castiel was just waiting on a better time. Looking at his stiff back, he thought again what a nuisance he must be to the angel. "Thanks... for the... sandwich. It'll feed me for days, maybe weeks," he tried to joke. 

Castiel gave a small nod, muscle in his jaw twitching. 

* * *  
Every day Dean woke up in Castiel's arms, he thought it would be the last day the angel would stay there watching over him. Like a hawk. There was no chance of getting himself in trouble, and Castiel pestered him until he ate a little something. Just like the liquor, Dean found that all the candy was gone. It pissed him off, but deep down... it kind of felt good to know someone gave a shit. Castiel might not say much, but he'd proven himself in the past, and now. There were times Dean was irritable, needing his liquor, craving it, times when he verbally abused Castiel for not letting him have his way... and still the angel stayed. It sort of reminded Dean of the days when Sam had been addicted to blood, and he'd been the one to watch over him. Tough love, was that what Castiel was practicing?

There was something different today, Dean felt it in the way Cas was holding him, watching him. His eyes... he looked worried again. "What is it?" he asked, clinging to Cas the way he usually only did in sleep.

Castiel sighed, tearing his gaze from Dean. "There are only a few seals left to be broken. Far too few," he looked back at Dean once more, "I should be out there, fighting. _We_ should be out there fighting." 

"I'm done fighting. I fought, I lost... can't change destiny, right?" Dean gave a self deprecating smile. "Maybe someone else will have better luck."

Castiel's eyes close for a moment before he opened them, sapphire gazing into emerald. "I have to go." he told Dean softly as he slowly started to pull away from him. "I can have Anna check on you from time to time, and if you need me..."

"What, no..." Dean suddenly tightened his arms around Castiel, burying his face in his throat. His scent was comforting, his warmth... "No, don't leave me Cas. I don't want to be alone." He didn't want Anna. He didn't want anyone, couldn't stand the thought of anyone else being here. But Cas... yeah, he kinda needed the angel. "Please."

Castiel clenched his jaw, torn between what he wanted to do and what he knew he had to. What he should do. His brothers and sisters were out there fighting and dying every day and he was doing nothing to help. "Dean, I don't have a choice. I'll come back."

"No. Please." He found himself kissing Castiel's throat, moving up to his mouth as if it was the most natural thing in the world. All of his need, all of his fears of being alone, he put it into the kiss, only half wondering if Castiel would smite him for it, but more afraid of the silence if Cas left him.

Castiel had been ready to leave, as hard as it was to do so, he was ready to do it. It was his duty, he was a warrior of God after all, but then Dean's mouth was at his throat, his lips, kissing him. Castiel's grip on Dean tightened as he kissed him back with everything he had, all of his confusion and doubt and wonder, mingled with the hope, the desire for it to be what he had thought, he put it all into that kiss. Maybe it would be enough, maybe somehow Dean would know just with that how he, an _angel,_ was _feeling_ about Dean. ....maybe.

Dean hadn't expected the explosive response. Yeah, they'd kissed once before, but this was different. Last time, Castiel was comforting him, just offering him a little shelter from the storm. This time, yeah Dean was desperate again, but he sensed the same desperation from the angel, which made no sense. Groaning as the angel's tongue tangled with his, as Castiel held him in an iron embrace, Dean moving his hand up to the side of Cas' face, holding him in place. "Let it burn. Let the outside burn Cas. Stay here with me. Until the end," he whispered brokenly, between kisses.

"We can stop it," Castiel told him as he turned his head, crushing their lips together once more, tongue delving deep, a low groan tearing from the angel's throat. "Maybe." he added as their lips parted once more, a hair's width apart, breaths fanning one another's face. Castiel shook his head, "I don't want..." a muscle in his jaw twitched, "Like you I have family. And mine are dying too. I have to go, but I'll be back." 

He felt Cas' jaw clenching under his palm, searched his eyes, saw the anguish for his brothers. "It's kind of freeing," Dean said. "Not having someone to worry about. Someone you'd give the world to keep safe... love that much, so much nothing else ... matters." He swallowed. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

Castiel's blue eyes stared into Dean's intently before he gave a small barely there nod. "Yes, now... I do," he told him softly, swallowing before he pulled himself from Dean's arms, from the bed, disappearing in a flutter of angel wings.

"Cas? I hate that," Dean shouted to an empty room, sighing. Staring at the ceiling, Cas' words reverberated in his mind. _Yes, now... I do._ It was the _now_ that he kept coming back to. Castiel couldn't mean... All those silent looks, not the usual ones, but deeper. All the questions about how Dean had discovered his feelings for Sam. The refusals to answer certain questions. The way he held him all night, every night. 

Licking his lips, Dean sat up, unsure how he should feel about this. These past weeks had been difficult, but Cas had forced him to stay clean. Had basically nursed him back to health, at least on the outside... where his body was concerned. He'd... been there for him, no matter what. And that... that made Dean feel safe, protected. The news that the angel was leaving him had hurt, had shaken him. But was it for a reason that ran deeper than friendship? And if so, what did that say about his love for his brother? A lump rose in his throat. No, he loved Sam. There wasn't room in his heart for anyone else. 

Blinking away the burning image of crystal blue eyes, he got up. 

He needed a walk, or a maybe a drive. Something told him Castiel would have left his keys for him now.


	6. Chapter 6

Many seals had been broken and the situation was approaching critical. Angels had fought valiantly against demons. There had been many injuries and deaths on both sides. Among those injured, was Castiel. While his brothers and sisters went into hiding or back to heaven to 'lick their wounds,' Castiel returned to the cabin in the woods, appearing in a flutter of angel wings on the porch. He fell to his knees in front of the door. His palm hit against the wood, before he slumped, sliding down the rough surface to land with his bloody face down against the porch surface.

Gun firmly in his hand, Dean twisted the knob, and then used his foot to open the door. Seeing Cas, he rushed to his side, rolling him over as he surveyed the area to see if Castiel had been followed. Tucking the gun in his waistband, he leaned over Cas, his heart constricting. "Cas? Cas?" He started lifting the injured angel, relaxing only slightly when he felt his breath skim across his hand.

Castiel's eyes opened to mere azure slits as he looked up at his charge. "I... came... back...." he grunted softly.

"I meant come back in one piece," Dean answered his voice gentler than usual as he helped Cas up off the floor and took most of his weight. "Let's get you inside." It had been about a month... almost a month, and many questions simmered inside Dean, but right now... getting the angel fixed up was his priority.

Kicking the door shut, he half dragged Castiel to the bedroom and rolled him onto his back on the bed. "What the hell hit you?" he asked, automatically undoing the buttons on Cas' shirt. "We really need to get you used to tee shirts."

Castiel swallowed, head rolling on the pillow as his eyes closed. "Demons," he answered simply.

"Demons," Dean nodded. "Who won?" He shouldn't care... didn't care anymore. He walked to the bathroom to get some medical supplies. It wasn't just the angel's face, his shirt was partially soaked with blood.

Castiel's head rolled back, eyes opening as he watched his charge walk away into the bathroom. "There were losses on both sides," he answered, pushing himself up in the bed.

Returning with a medical kit that he set down on the bed, Dean started to help Cas take the trench coat off. "I wanna see your injuries." He felt the angel jerk slightly, met his eyes, then continued what he was doing. "Gotta get the shirt off too." Course Cas hadn't answered his question. Did that mean they'd lost a seal?  
A muscle in Castiel's jaw twitched as his gaze tracked the movement of Dean's hands. "It's fine. I... it will heal," Castiel told him stiffly.

"It's not fine, and you know it." Dean had seen Cas injured before, but not like this. Once he peeled the shirt of his skin and saw the deep gash in his side, Dean knew he was right. When he had the angel stripped to the waist, he started to clean the wounds on his face. Occasionally, when he got real close and could feel Cas' breath on his own face, and their eyes would meet. There was a definite undercurrent, but he wasn't sure it wasn't his imagination fueled by what he thought Cas had implied when he left.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over Cas' bruised cheek and asked, "what's the matter. Am I in your 'personal space?""

Castiel gazed intently up at his charge, odd feelings stirring once again in his chest. Thoughts of the hunter had never been far from his mind in his absence, and he had more than once sent Anna to check in on him, thought she had remained out of sight. Tearing his gaze away, he gave a small shake of his head. "No... it's.... no."

Dean chuckled. "Yes I am, but I got a good excuse." He gave the guy some space and used a wet towel to clean his throat, and upper chest. "You're cold?" he asked in surprise, seeing the goose bumps rise over perfectly smooth skin, at least the undamaged parts.  
Staring intently at Dean for a long moment, Cas gave a small shake of his head. "No... I'm... no." He could feel Jimmy's heart beating out of control in his chest, a strange sweat breaking out on his flesh as he gazed at the hunter at the same time that his skin seemed to become ultra sensitive. The angel’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought about the odd reactions of his vessel's body.

"Sure about that?" Dean asked, looking up, his heart skipping a beat at the look in Cas' eyes. Biting his lip, he ran his palms down to the waist band of the angel's pants, his hand smoothing his skin. "I need to stitch you up. You're still bleeding." Giving his arm a light squeeze, he pulled away and got the needle and thread ready.

Setting the needle aside, he bent over to clean the seeping wound once again, more thoroughly this time. Dean's cheek practically skimmed over Cas' rib cage as he worked. 

As Castiel watched the Winchester, the muscles of his stomach twitched and rippled, even as he fought to hold himself still. Something not usually hard for an angel, though at the moment he was nearly ready to start squirming. "Dean... this isn't... necessary," Castiel managed to ground out through gritted teeth. 

Dean looked up suddenly. "Don't be a baby..." he found his mouth was inches from Castiel's... so close, he could feel the angel's breath. He ached to lean in just a little... or maybe he did, but not far enough to touch. "Don't move."

His voice was so thick and needy, Dean could have kicked himself. Taking an audible breath, he pulled away slightly and held Cas' skin together as he pushed the needle in. "You know, if you weren't so dead set against whiskey... this would hurt less," he joked. "I have some, you want?" He hadn't gone back to drinking heavily, but he had the stuff in the house again. Usually, he reached for a beer.

Castiel lay looking up at Dean, not quite sure what he should say. "Maybe." It wasn't the pain that the angel was thinking of, but the nervous fluttering in his stomach, the way his pulse was racing.

"Yeah? Alright." Pulling up to his feet, Dean pointed at him to stay seated on the bed, and went to the kitchen. A moment later, he was back with a glass he'd already poured, and the bottle itself. He put the bottle on the night stand and held the glass to Castiel's mouth, tensing slightly when Castiel's hand covered his for a moment, before taking it. "I hope angels aren't cursed with good metabolism."

Castiel tilted the glass to his lips, downing the entire contents in one gulp and handing the glass back. "It didn't help."

"Didn't help... you in pain? I'm not even touching you." Dean poured just a little more, waiting for Cas to drink it down. He knew the angel had a high pain threshold, so this had to just be nerves because he'd never gone through this... he assumed.

Taking the glass, Castiel once again gulped it down, eyes slightly wide as he gazed at Dean, though the hunter was no longer looking at him, but starting to stitch him up once more. 

The angel barely felt the pass of the needle through his skin, though he felt each ghosting of Dean's hand, his fingers over his flesh. With each pass, his stomach contracted, muscles jumping under the surface of his skin. Reaching for the bottle of whiskey, the angel started to chug it. 

"Cas?" Dean cocked his head to the side watching him and letting him drink a little more before taking the bottle away. "Almost done," he said, putting one more stitch in, then bending close to cut the thread with his teeth. His mouth skimmed over Cas' stomach. He stilled, then pulled away. "Done." His hand rested on the angel's hip. "You hurt anywhere else?" He was feeling a little breathless, a little lightheaded... and he knew exactly why.

Castiel stared at his charge for a long moment. "I'm not in pain," he stated, tearing his gaze away. His breaths were coming a little heavier, matching the erratic rhythm of his heart. When Dean had bent close, his mouth near his side, the angel had been forced to press his lips together tightly to keep in the moan that wanted to spill out. "I should... get up." He cleared his throat and started to pull from the bed. 

"If you don't stop squirming around and trying to get up, I'm gonna fucking kiss you," Dean ground out, pushing Castiel back. His own eyes widened at the words that spilled from his lips, partly from frustration, partly because maybe he was looking for an excuse. "You gonna smite me now?" His voice shook slightly, but he stayed in Castiel's space, wanting a true answer to the questions that had been rolling round in his mind.

Castiel's posture went rigid, his breath hitching in his throat. After a long moment, he gave a barely there shake of his head. "No."

"You gonna keep... squirming?"

Castiel slowly gave a small nod. "Yes," his gaze locked with Dean's. 

"Yes?" Dean paused a beat to make sure Cas understood what he'd said. Then he lowered his mouth over Castiel's, brushing his burning lips over the angel's once, kissing him lightly as he ran his tongue along the seam of the angel's lips. The instant Cas parted for him, Dean pushed his tongue inside. He'd dreamt about this a few times, of kissing Castiel again. He wanted to know if it was in his imagination, or whether there was a spark. 

At first Castiel held deathly still, his gaze following Dean until he was too close, then closing his eyes. His lips parted, and feeling Dean's tongue run across his lips, he almost gasped. He'd hungered for another taste of the hunter.

There was a definite spark... definite. Dean felt it roll through his entire body and only just prevented himself from putting his weight onto the injured angel. "Hold me," he demanded, working his mouth harder over Castiel's, deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring the silky hot depths of Castiel's mouth and tangling with the angel's tongue. He tasted... good... like a crisp winter day warmed up with a little whiskey.  
Slowly, Castiel pulled his arms from the bed, wrapping them around his charge, holding him tightly, pulling him in against him, mindless of the fact that he was injured, the wounds likely already healing. A soft moan tearing from his throat, the angel slid his tongue alongside the hunter's, tangling them together, one hand slowly sliding up Dean's back to cradle the base of his skull as Castiel held him as if he might break and as if he never wanted to let him go. 

"Mmm," Dean moaned, trying to keep a little space between them but failing. He stroked the side of Castiel's face, trying to avoid his injuries, moving his hands down the angel's shoulders, squeezing, fingers biting into him as they kissed. Each time he broke the kiss to take a breath, Cas moved in and found his mouth again, and vice versa. It was getting so hot and heavy between them that Dean started to get hard, his cock pulsing between his legs... and they were barely touching. "Cas... I..." A little shaky, he pulled back. "If we don't stop... we _won't_ stop," he whispered thickly, knowing much better than the angel what road they were going down.

Castiel gave a small nod. "I know," he answered, voice rough, husky, sounding foreign to him. Leaning in, slanting his mouth back over Dean's, his tongue thrusting into the hunter's mouth. His hand slid over Dean's back, gripping tighter, fingertips digging in, as his hand at the hunter’s nape, slid up slightly digits threading through the short strands. 

Dean had been sitting next to Cas, but now he was practically being pulled over him. He put his hand on the mattress, trying not to put his weight on the injured angel. Straddling Cas' hips, he lightly brushed his groin over Cas', knowing the angel hadn't ever done this with anyone, let alone with another man. The heat that shot through him had him groaning out Castiel's name, wanting him with a mounting desperation that was hard for him to believe. Only a little while ago, he'd felt dead inside.

Castiel's hands moved, arms wrapping tightly around the hunter before he rolled them, pressing Dean down against the mattress his weight on top of him, their groins meeting, brushing together, low soft moans breaking from his throat.

The air was slightly knocked out of Dean. He felt Castiel's arousal through his jeans and through the angel's dress pants. He arched up to help Cas get the pressure... the relief he was seeking. His hands tugged at the angel, trying to get him closer, his mouth moving under Cas'... tongues twisting, dancing hotly around each other. He ran his hand down along the angel's spine, always coming back to that area between his shoulder blades, where his wings would unfurl from. He wanted to see them, wanted to feel the feathers sweep across his body, wanted to touch Castiel the way only an angel...fallen or otherwise... could be touched. "Oh God... good ... feels good," he said, raising his hips again.  
Castiel ground his hips down against Dean's as his mouth slipped from Dean's, kissing a hot trail along his jaw, back to his neck. Every time Dean's hand, his fingertips, brushed against the area between his shoulder blades, an intense shudder would rip through Castiel. A low groan would break from deep in his throat and he'd find himself automatically thrusting his hips thrusting against Dean's. 

Pulling one hand from around his charge, Castiel slid it between them, tugging at the button and zipper of Dean's jeans and then fumbling with his own.

Dean started to protest the loss of Cas' mouth but when the angel undid his fly, Dean's eyes widened a little, he faltered... licking his lips. "Ah... Cas, how come you're... thought you hadn't ever..." Enthusiasm was one thing, but he hadn't expected Cas to unzip him. "Didn't think you'd be... aggressive, in a good way," he clarified, not wanting Cas to stop.

Castiel raised his head. "I saw this once," he gave a small nod, "trust me." 

"Saw it... _once._ " Dean was breathing hard, aching to pull Cas down on top of him again, but he had to ask. "Where?" 

Castiel ground against the hunter under him, dipping his head to drop a line of open mouth kisses along his neck before drawing his head back once more. "Ancient Greece... well, and Sodom," he gave a small shrug of one shoulder, "Gomorrah." the angel gave a nod, then went back to leaving a trail of hot open mouthed kisses along the tender flesh of Dean's neck, teeth scraping lightly. 

"Sodom... and Gomorrah..." Now Dean was just distracted, even though Castiel was leaving trails of heat across his flesh. "That... that was a _long_ time ago." Long or not, Castiel was getting it right, Dean couldn't fault him there. 

Castiel pulled his head back, looking down at his charge. "Was it?" he asked, breaths coming faster. "Doesn't seem like it.," he mumbled softly as he leaned back in. 

He started to writhe under the angel, hand moving down his back, to the waistband of his dress pants, trying push them down. "Need to feel you," he muttered, kissing Castiel's temple, trying to capture his mouth even as the angel slipped away. 

Castiel toed off this dress shoes, letting them tumble off the side of the bed, before reaching down with one hand to inch his dress slacks down, his mouth sliding kisses against Dean's cheekbone and down his jaw line. Switching hands, he worked the other side of his pants down. Once his dress slacks were down to his thighs, Castiel started to explore Dean's body. Cupping the hunter's side, he traced the outline of his body, pushing his palm along smooth overheated skin and making Dean's tee shirt bunch up at his chest. 

"Oh fuck... yes," Dean moaned, arching up into Castiel's touch. His hands roamed freely over Castiel's shorts, to his bare thighs, gripping them each time Dean raised his hips to thrust and rub against Cas. He lifted his face, giving Castiel access to his throat, loving how soft and firm the angel's mouth felt over him. The instant Cas moved back, Dean raised his arms, allowing the angel to pull his tee shirt off him. Their eyes met. Castiel's blazed so hot, it took Dean's breath away. "I don't think that's a very _angelic_ way to look at me." 

Castiel gave a small nod, "Probably not," he allowed, before lowering his head and kissing a trail down Dean's chest, tongue flickering out to lick his charge's flesh. Making his way lower, Castiel paused at the waistband of Dean's unfastened jeans and the cotton covered elastic of his boxers. Lifting his head slightly he looked up at Dean. "You should read the Bible sometime." His gaze flicked back down to Dean's body as he pushed his hand down, his fingers slipping under the band of Dean's boxers. "She climbed up his cherry tree and ate of the fruit thereof. He drank of her milk and honey." The angel gave a small nod, glancing up again as he started to tug down on the cotton and denim, "It's all in there." 

'I got milk and honey for you," Dean groaned, his gut clenching as Cas' fingers brushed against his cock. "All... in ... there," he said through gritted teeth, forcing himself to breath as he raised up. Instinctively, he ran his hand up behind Castiel's neck, into his hair, pushing him lightly... "do... angels give head?" he asked bluntly, a part of him wanting to know where Castiel drew the line.   
Castiel frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he looked down as Dean's hard cock was revealed to him as he pulled his jeans and boxers down his legs. The angel tilted his head to the side before shaking it slightly. "I don't know," he answered truthfully, "Let's find out." 

Crawling down a little, Castiel dipped his head, taking the tip of Dean's cock just inside his mouth, sucking on the tip as one would a piece of candy, getting used to the taste, the texture, the size of it on his tongue and in his mouth. Pulling his head back, he licked up the underside, base to tip, then took Dean's cock deeper into his mouth than before, sucking until his cheeks hallowed out. Pulling back until Dean's cock slipped out of his mouth, he tore his gaze away from the hunter's now wet cock to look up at Dean's face. "I believe that would be a 'yes'."

"No, that's the wrong answer... right answer is... _hell yes..._ " Dean's hand dug into the bed sheets, his other one tugging Castiel's head closer. Clamping his knees against Castiel's sides, belatedly remembering the injury on one side, Dean raised his hips. "Angel's don't... tease," he said, as if it was a statement of fact. He needed Cas' mouth on him again, fuck, he needed it so bad. 

Castiel tilted his head to the side, it was on the tip of his tongue to debate the whole 'tease' issue with Dean, but he did not think his charge would appreciate that right now. Wanting to give Dean what he needed, Cas lowered his head and gently wrapped his hand around Dean's cock and ran his tongue around his crown before sucking him back into his mouth. Slowly, he worked his mouth up and down Dean's length, his hand echoing his motions along the base of Dean's cock. He'd actually seen this once too, though he wasn't going to bring up the time he'd fiddled with Sam's lap top after Dean walked away from it, only to have a sex act pop up on the screen. 

For a second, Dean expected an argument, but thank God Cas used his common sense and lowered his mouth to his cock. As the angel teased his crown, Dean's hips practically came off the mattress. "So good... oh yeah," he ran his fingers through Cas' hair, his fingers clutching at it at times as waves of heat rode him. When Castiel worked him with his hand and mouth, in tandem, Dean's eyes practically rolled back into his head. He watched his cock moving in and out of the angel's mouth, groaned as Castiel sucked him harder, his cheeks hallowing out... it was a sight he never would have expected to see... ever. It was clear that Castiel was giving it his all... for him.

Once again, Dean reached out, one hand still at the back of the angel's head, the other searching the spot between his shoulder blades... wanting to give back. He pressed harder, his middle finger slipping back and forth, practically fucking the exact place he knew would drive the angel crazy, making it very clear he wanted more. "Cas... come on... please..."

Dean's erection slipped from between his lips as Castiel pulled his head up and looked at Dean. Sapphire eyes met and locked with the hunter's emerald gaze. For a few long seconds, nothing happened, but one more slide of Dean's finger along his spine and Castiel arched back, his large white wings unfurling from his back in a rush of air, its tips grazing the floor. In that instance, he looked very much like a bird about to take flight. 

The sight took Dean's breath away, held him mesmerized and in shock for a moment when he saw Sam's face superimposed over the angel's. Black wings spread wide and framing his face, expression hard as granite, sensual lips sometimes twisted into a cruel smile. The image dissipated, and he was with Castiel again, feeling his mouth wrapped tightly around his cock. Dean's chest rose and fell as he focused on Cas, so different, different from his brother, and yet... there was the same undying loyalty between them. They'd exchanged words, disagreed, but they'd always come through for each other.

Dean banished all thoughts of his brother, this wasn't Sam's place... not now. This was right, it felt right. Fucking up into Castiel's mouth a few times, he reached up and ran his hands.. both of them, over his wings. 

At the feel of Dean's hands on his wings an uncontrollable shudder rippled through the angel a low moan tearing from his throat as he pulled his head back, lips parted as he looked up at his charge, azure eyes passion glazed. His hips rocked forward, grinding his cock over Dean's leg, his arm started to tremble where he held himself up, hands pressing down on the mattress. 

Cas' wings dropped down. Dean felt their tips caressing his legs, fuck it felt good. But the best part was Cas' expression... the way his control started to slip. He stroked the angel's wings more firmly, one hand moving between them. "Lay down on me. Want to make you come on me."

Castiel swallowed hard, giving a curt nod, he moved forward to lay with his body blanketing the hunter's, his head turned, face against Dean's throat, lips parted, panting out hot breaths against his skin between slow gentle kisses and caresses of his tongue.

Rocking his body up against Castiel's, Dean closed his eyes and accepted the gentle kisses, the touches, the slow thrusts. He wanted, needed more, and with every deliberate stroke of his hand against Castiel's feathers, he was one step closer to getting what he wanted. Right before the angel's lips crushed over his, he whispered, "don't hold back." His hand splayed in the center of Castiel's back, pressing, rubbing his long fingers along his spine, along the feathers, groaning with pleasure as he felt Castiel's control slip... his motions become more jerky, more random.

Castiel's breath came out in a grunted groan against Dean's lips as their mouth's came together. The feel of being touched _there_ , unlike anything else he'd ever experienced or heard about. He really had _no_ idea _why_ Sam wouldn't want to be touched there. Even with what Dean had told him, it just didn't make sense.... but that's a demon for you... 

Tangling his tongue with the hunter's, Castiel's hands tightened their hold on him, fingertips digging into the flesh of his side and shoulder, clinging to him as he rode these new sensations. Tearing his lips from Dean's, Castiel turned his head away, hanging it slightly, lips parted before he sucked the bottom one into his mouth, his movements now fast, erratic, wings bristling, trembling, as heat pooled low in the angel's belly. His lips parted as he gasped in air, eyes opening as his head tilted back and then he was coming. His first orgasm ever, he was coming, his spunk smearing between himself and his charge.

"Oh... fuck yeah..." Dean groaned, moving harder against the angel as wetness spread between them. He watched Castiel come apart, and tumbled after him, lifting both their bodies off the mattress as he came hard with Cas' name falling from his lips in a long, drawn out groan. He met his eyes, then pulled him down for a kiss, demanding it, still moving slowly against the angel, his body riding out the last waves of pleasure. 

As lust lost its grip on both of them, they slowed down and Castiel rolled half way off him. Dean ran his mouth along the ridge of Castiel's still unfurled wings, half expecting to be chided. 

Castiel drew in a shuddering breath, a tremor racing through him at the touch to his feathers. Swallowing hard as he fought to catch his breath the angel gave a small nod. "Give... give me a minute," he told Dean holding up a hand, before it flopped down onto the bed lifelessly.

Releasing a few breaths, Dean rolled to his side and looked at Cas. "Are you alright. Did you hurt yourself again... reopen the wounds?" He moved Cas' arm and saw the stitches in place, though the healing had begun. Still... "I shouldn't have... I'm sorry Cas..." He was sorry the angel hurt, but he wasn't sorry they'd made love. It was the first time since... since Sam, and Dean had thought he'd never be able to want anyone again, or that he'd feel like throwing up if he ever did. Instead, he felt a sense of peace. 

Castiel frowned softly. "Sorry?"

"Hurt you. Sorry if I hurt you," Dean repeated, his hand trailing down Castiel's chest, watching intently as the white wings folded into themselves and disappeared. "I don't have the best timing."

Castiel gave a small sigh before glancing down at his side. His gaze returning to Dean's as he gave a small shake of his head. "It's fine." 

"You don't look ... happy. You're supposed to... you know, look happy, need a cigarette... a drink... something." There was a sinking feeling in Dean's stomach. "Were you drunk? Did the liquor make you... oh God." He flopped down on his back, and swallowed hard.

Castiel frowned harder as he looked at Dean. "Drunk?... No." He sighed and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling as he lay on his back. "I'm confused about something.... you said that after you and Sam... that you knew...." a muscle in the angels jaw twitched. "I feel the same way I did about you now as before I left... I still don't know what it means." He turned his head to look at Dean. "I think I already loved you then. Does that count?"

"I did what now?" He turned his face, searching Castiel's profile, "you what... love me?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not a good idea. People who love me end up... sacrificing themselves." Dean sat up, and let out a breath. Castiel had to be misinterpreting. "And no, I didn't know the first time I had sex with Sam. That time, and many times after... it hurt... and I hated him. I meant later... after we'd had sex, but later." He looked down into his lap. "Pass me the bottle, Cas."

The angel reached for the bottle, handing it to him, but didn't let go, forcing Dean to look at him. "I'll split it with you," he said, sitting up. 

"I'm just taking a sip," Dean nodded, taking the bottle. He drank a little and passed it back. 

"I thought that was what it was," Castiel looked over at his charge, "before I left. But, I tried to tell myself I was wrong." He shook his head. "It's not going away however," he took a long drink and sighed. "Getting worse actually," he frowned thoughtfully. 

"Worse?" Dean eyed the angel, knocking back liquor like he'd been a drinker or something. "Worse how... no, you can't do you that, you're just gonna have to rewind... _unlove_ me." He sounded like an idiot. "Caring about someone isn't lo..." What the hell did he know anymore? He lapsed into silence, eyes locked with Castiel's.

A muscle in the angels jaw twitched as he looked at his charge. "It's more than that."

"You sure?" He asked meekly. At Castiel's nod, he leaned in, put his forehead against the angel's. "Promise me... promise me one thing, Cas. You will _never_ give your life for me. Promise me," his arm went around the angel's shoulder, his fingers desperately digging into him.

Castiel gave a barely there nod in answer before taking a deep breath. "It's sort of what I do, Dean, I'm a Warrior," he gave a slight shrug of one shoulder.

"It's what my father did. My brother did. No... I can't go through it again. You promise me, Castiel or... or when you're better, you leave me." His voice broke. He wasn't sure how involved he was with Cas. He did remember how lonely he'd been, how it had hurt when Cas left... and how much he'd been thinking about the angel. "I just... I can't do it."

"I'm harder to kill than a human."

"I know. So was Sam." He closed his eyes. At the end, Sam had been more demon than human. His strength. His wings. He pulled away and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to have to give this up, even before they explored it. What did a washed up old hunter need love for anyway? He threw back his head and gave a laugh, it didn't reach his eyes, it only hurt his soul a little more.

Castiel watched his charge in silence for a long while. "Dean, I fight demons. I am a warrior of God. There are no certainties for me. I do what must be done, what is asked of me. But," he shook his head, "I would never sacrifice my soul, who I am. My father owns that. And when I die, I will return to Him." He paused. "It's not the same thing."

Maybe it wasn't. Maybe he wasn't cursed with the Winchester tendency to make deals to save each other. He unbent a little, looked at Cas. "Gonna hold you to that," he said, brushing his mouth against Cas', and laying down. He pulled the sheets up over both of them, and moved close, placing his hand on Castiel's chest and tracing his finger along the lean lines of his muscles. "You should rest."

Castiel shook his head. "Angel's don't require sleep," he looked at Dean for a long moment. "Are you... tired? I can... pretend... to sleep." 

"No, I'm not. You seemed to be." He lifted his head. "Thought it was from being hurt and all the... you know."

The corners of the angel's mouth twitched into an almost smile as he looked at Dean. Reaching down on his side, the angel tugged the stitches free from his now completely healed side, bringing the string up for Dean to see. "I told you, it wasn't necessary."

Dean flinched, then reached to touch that spot. "Been told I have a magic touch." Grinning, he stole a kiss. "Your wings... they're white. They always looked... black," he said. "Did you... like it, being touched?"

Castiel gave a small nod. "Shadow, lighting maybe. All angels... ones that have not fallen, have white wings." He frowned. "Yes, I did. I've never felt anything like it before." He tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful look on his face as he again had a hard time understanding why Sam didn't like it. 

Dean was relieved. "That's good... cause apparently I kinda have a thing for... wings." Okay, had those words actually left his mouth? "How about the rest... you enjoyed the sex?" he asked. "Cause I kinda like sex... a lot. And I haven't had any for... you know, a long time." He'd driven to a couple bars, but he hadn't tried to get any action.

Castiel gave a small nod as he frowned. "It was... different.... good." He gave another nod. "Yes."

"Not great?" Dean wasn't used to unenthusiastic responses, and even the fact that is was Castiel... that didn't appease him. "Roll over. Let's give it another try."

The angel frowned, "That... wasn't the _'right'_ answer?" he asked as he started to roll, only to stop and look back over his shoulder at the hunter, "You're going to do this until I say what you want.... aren't you?" his eyes narrowed, head tilting slightly.

"You mean do I want you to lie? No." He gave Cas a shove. "What are you worried about? You just told me you're unbreakable," he smirked.

Castiel sighed and actually rolled his eyes as he finished turning over. "I think I'm catching things from you." 

Eyes wide, Dean rocked back slightly in shock. "I don't have anything... I mean, when I had it, I went to the clinic... I'm clean! Besides, I didn't angels could 'catch' things..." 

Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, eyes narrowed in confusion. "You go to a 'clinic' for... emotions?"

"Huh? 'Emotions' are what you're catching? No... forget what I said about the clinic," he gave a weak laugh and pushed Castiel down. "Tell me what you like." He blocked his mind to thoughts of the first few times of experimenting with Sam. His brother had been evil then, and it hadn't been a matter of saying something was good or bad... but punishment being meted out when he didn't please Sam. "And if you want me to do something you think of... tell me." 

Castiel gave a nod, head laying on the pillow, face turned to the side. "Okay." Of course, the angel had no idea _what_ he liked. Not yet, though he was sure Dean knew that. So, he tried to concentrate on the things Dean would do to him, the way he would touch or kiss, and if he really seemed to enjoy something, he would say so then.

Slowly, Dean pulled the sheets down, revealing Cas' ass and thighs, down lower to where his pants were still bunched up above his knees. His gaze flicked back up, travelling from the cleft of Castiel's ass, up his spine, to that place where the wings would appear... and he knew he wouldn't be able to resist teasing, making Castiel show him his wings again later. Leaning over, hands on either side of Cas' body, he started to kiss the back of his neck, lingering, licking sometimes. His face and chest brushed over the angel's back as he moved back and forth, kissing every inch of his flesh, and stopping to suck on him when he felt the angel shiver. 

"Mmm..." the angel gave a small nod, "I like that." A shiver ran through him again as Dean continued to kiss along the back of his neck, his mouth drawing closer to the area between his shoulder blades.

Fingers splayed wide, Dean ran his hands down Castiel's sides as he licked and kissed between his shoulder blades, loving the way Cas tensed and relaxed under his touch. He nipped him in that sensitive spot, then kiss him better and forced himself to move down the rest of his back. He trailed hot, wet kisses along Cas' sides, dragging his teeth along the ridges of his muscles and then licking over the same path. 

Castiel moaned, muscles flexing under his skin as he tensed and fought to relax, breaths coming faster. Sensations like he had never known assaulting him, making his body throb and ache, writhe, under his charge.

When Dean reached his ass, he squeezed each cheek, grinning as Castiel seemed to tense again. Dean moved down, pushing the pants lower and Castiel's legs apart so he could lay between them. 

Castiel frowned slightly, lips parting. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Dean what he was doing, what he had planned, only before he could the hunter was continuing. 

Palms flat against Cas' inner thighs, Dean pushed, spreading him and dipping his head down to lick his sack. Feeling the angel's entire body jerk under him, Dean pulsed his tongue against his sack, then asked, "ever see this in Sodom?" With that, he sucked half of Cas' balls into his mouth, playing with it with his tongue, sucking rhythmically, knowing eventually the angel would want more.

 _Sodom...?_ The angel's eyes got even wider if that were possible, his body on fire, aching and needy. Feelings he didn't know what to do with, didn't know how to control bombarded him, making the angel's breaths pant out as if he were human and had been running. His lips parted, eyes comically wide, Castiel did the only thing he knew to do. ...in a fluttering of wings, he disappeared.

Dean found himself licking the Goddamned sheets, cheated of his fun. He looked around the empty room, felt extremely foolish and quickly sat up. His heart was still thumping too fast, and he had a hard on... and his mind was a mess of confusion. What the hell had happened? Just when he'd thought things were going... well. Cursing the angel, and himself for being an idiot, he started grabbing his clothes, using a discarded over-shirt to wipe himself clean.

Castiel reappeared leaning, slumped against the wall on the other side of the room, his pants now pulled back up, but only half fastened, his shirt and trench still slung on the floor where Dean had tossed them. "I - I apologize. It was... too much." 

"Too much. I see." Dean said, jerking his chin up as if in acknowledgment, but his gaze locked with the angel said otherwise. 

Castiel sighed and shook his head. "No," he told him, muscle twitching in his jaw, "you don't. I just... I didn't know what to do." He hung his head, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he answered tightly. What had there been for the angel to do but enjoy the ride? "My mistake. Thought I could get a more...enthusiastic response." Cas was Cas... not like he could change him. But there were only a few things Dean was really good at, and he'd given up hunting. He'd given _this_ up too, maybe it was for good reason. 

Castiel stared intently at the hunter. "I think," he gave a small nod, "you did." 

"Great." He licked his suddenly dry lips, unsure what to say... what Cas wanted. He was the first to look away. 

Castiel pulled away from the wall to walk back over to the bed, to the hunter, slowly lowering down to his knees before him. The angel's wings unfurled from his back, hanging down, brushing against the floor. "Touch them?" he asked softly, adding, "just... go slow."

"Your wings?" Dean asked, surprised to find Cas kneeling in front of him. He pulled his legs off the bed, planting his feet on the ground on either side of the angel's knees, his gaze sweeping down the expanse of his bare chest to his half open fly, then back up. Scooting further out, he clamped his knees together, bracketing Castiel's sides. Hands on Castiel's shoulders, he leaned in, spoke in his ear. "I'll go slow, but you... you don't disappear. Things like 'oh God Dean, so fucking good...' work better. You can leave the 'God' part out."

A muscle in the angel's jaw twitched before he gave a slow nod of his head and cleared his throat, his hands rising, grasping Dean's thighs, holding onto him. Slowly, the angel raised his sapphire gaze to the hunters, giving another small nod. "It was."

Dean ran his hand up to the back of Castiel's neck, his thumb lifting the angel's chin up toward him. He remembered the angel's reactions when he'd taken him to that whorehouse, so long ago. The fear, the nerves, it explained a lot. "Okay, then." He nodded. "Sorry I let it bother me... I'm not really myself." He wasn't gonna talk about it anymore, he was done with it. Lowering his mouth over Castiel's, he sucked the angel's lower lip, then licked his way inside his mouth, tongue tangling with the angel's. 

Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting just a little as he looked at Dean, it was the same look he always gave when he wasn't exactly following what the hunter was saying. Trying to understand the human terms and the emotions behind the words. But then Dean's mouth was slanting over his and the angel lost all track of his thoughts, of what he had been trying to understand as Dean sucked at his lips, tangled their tongues together, making him moan softly, wings fluttering softly behind him. 

The bathroom door was open, and Dean glimpsed their reflection in the mirror... the lean lines of Cas' back, his pants slung low on his hips, his wings fluttering... waiting for Dean's touch. It took his breath away and had him kissing harder, forcing the angel's face to move from side to side as he watched in the mirror and quickly got hard.

Castiel's hands moved, slowly inching up Dean's thighs, hands running over smooth flesh as one hand rose to lay flat against the hunter's stomach, the other cupping over his charge's arousal, low moans breathing from his throat as the angel touched, mapped, and explored Dean's body. 

Shuddering under Castiel's unexpected touch, Dean kissed along his jaw, and moved to his throat. _Slow._ He slid his hands up and down Castiel's neck, shoulder and upper arms, only letting his fingers graze the angel's feathers, almost accidentally. Dean swept the flat of his tongue down Cas' throat, then sucked his soft, sensitive skin into his mouth. "Taste good," he muttered, sucking harder suddenly when the angel's hand moved over him again. The thought of leaving a bruise, even for a few minutes, had Dean worked up. He moved to the other side, kissing and tonguing, trying to find 'the right spot."  
The fleeting thought to answer Dean's comment, 'taste good' ran through the angels mind, had his lips parting more, though his words stuck in his throat as Dean's mouth continued to move over his flesh. The angels hand slid along the length of Dean's cock, sliding up and down tentatively, the thumb of his hand against the hunter's stomach moving in slow circles as his breaths panted out under the assault of Dean's mouth. 

"Like.... this..." Castiel managed to stammer out, eyes closing slowly, tightly, before blinking them open again. 

"Me too, feels good," Dean said hoarsely, biting back the demand for more pressure. He couldn't help moving just a little closer, pressing against Castiel's palm and groaning at the sensations shooting through his tightly wound body. And they hadn't done anything yet. 

Castiel gave a small nod, a low moan tearing from his throat, his cock hard and aching in his dress slacks, making him want more, but not knowing what to say, how to ask. Afraid it would be more than he knew how to handle once again.

He kissed Castiel's chest, his shoulders... nipping him on occasion, and then his eyes focused on the white wings. That was the angel's most erogenous area... and Castiel had asked him to touch there. Leaning against Cas' chest, he ran his mouth along the upper edge of the angel's wings, kissing, taking it between his lips and pressing his lips together to give some light pressure. He repeated the motion, tracking the edge of the angel's wings down past his shoulder as far as he could reach, then replacing his mouth with his hand, squeezing and releasing the wing. He left open mouthed kisses along along Castiel's throat and chest as he made his way towards Cas' other wing. 

An intense shudder ran up and down Castiel's spine as the hunter, _his_ hunter, ran his mouth along the upper edge of his wing, his mouth working over it, teasing and caressing, making gooseflesh break out of the angel's skin. Pleasure danced along his nerve endings to pool low in his belly, his cock trapped inside his boxers and slacks twitched and pulsed with need. "Aaugh, Dean..." the angel moaned long and loud, lips parted, breaths panting out as his grip on Dean tightened, the fingertips against Dean stomach digging into muscled flesh, his other hand now wrapping around Dean's length and squeezing him. 

An unintelligible sound was torn from Dean's throat as the angel's fist closed around him. He thrust his hips, showing Cas what he needed, even as he tried to concentrate on pleasuring Cas. He kissed the angel's ear, licking the shell, whispering, telling him how he was so hard... how good he felt, encouraging him to touch some more. His mouth slipped away from skin, and he started to kiss the edge of Castiel's wing again, this time, his hands explored Cas' chest and sides, slowly moving up his back and caressing his wings from their underside. So soft... it was like touching a cloud. 

Castiel gave a small nod, swallowing hard as his hand on the hunter's stomach slid around to his back, pulling him in closer, eyes closing as soft moans and groans fell from parted lips, his hips thrusting forward as if they had a mind of their own, a will and a knowledge that the angel himself did not possess.

Feeling Castiel's hips snap forward, Dean moved one leg, from Castiel's side, to between his thighs, half coming off the bed to angle his thigh just right against the angel's rock hard cock. "Better?"  
"Mmm..." was Castiel's only answer as his hips continued to thrust his slacks-clad cock against the hunter, his hand wrapped around his cock starting to move with more assurance, stroking him, squeezing. The hand on Dean's back, holding tighter, fingertips digging in as he clung to him, head dipping to Dean's neck to trail his open mouth along the tender flesh, teeth sliding again his skin, tongue darting out to lick.

"Oh yeah... just like that Cas," Dean whispered, stroking the angel's back and wings, loving the fluttering sounds when he was getting him too excited. He'd move his hands away, but always come back, inching toward that spot between his shoulder blades, but not wanting to touch him there yet, or it would be over too soon. "Like being held tight," he admitted, biting his lower lip as the angel tightened his hold on him. 

A soft near whimpering sound tore from the angel's throat as his head tilted back, lips parting before he drew the bottom one into his mouth, his hips continuing their nearly erratic thrusting against Dean's thigh. The angel's hand on his cock, moving faster, nearly in time with the fast jerky movements of his own hips. His other arm, pulling Dean in, like a vise around him, holding on tightly, wanting to please... to do this right....

Sliding completely off the bed, so he was on his knees in front of the angel, one thigh still firmly lodged against Castiel's cock, Dean moved one hand over the angel's ass, pulling him close... squeezing him. Their chests rubbed together, their stomachs... their hips slipped together as they moved. Looking at the mirror, Dean knew he wanted... needed to see the angel bare-assed and moving hotly against him. He started to push his pants down. "Don't... don't fly away, Cas." 

Castiel sucked in a breath as he raised his head, eyes round as saucers as he looked at Dean, lips parted, face flushed a soft pink. The fingertips of his hand at Dean's back digging in, short blunt nails making crescent moons in the hunters skin. _Don't fly away, don't fly away, don't fly away..._ Castiel let those words play over and over in his mind like a mantra as he stiffened, staring at his charge through wide, unsure, scared azure eyes.

Kissing Castiel, stemming any protests, Dean pushed the angel's pants down to his knees and brought their bodies together, trapping both their cocks and Cas' hand between them. He started to thrust against Cas, his cock grinding into the angel's hip even as the angel's hand slipped from between them and moved behind his back. Cas was just as hard... now throbbing against his stomach... and quickly catching on. 

Castiel thrust against his charge, breaths panting out as he held onto Dean tightly, dipping his head to place soft messy open mouthed kisses along his collarbone. His wings starting to rise and quiver, standing straight up, bent in the center like a bird about to take flight. 

Both hands on the angel's ass, Dean watched their reflection... watched Cas fucking against him, wings rising... it was orgasmic. "So fucking hot...look," he nodded toward the bathroom and reached up, stroking Castiel's wings, and relying on the angle to keep their bodies locked together. "Tell me it’s good... tell me," he said, chin resting on the angel's shoulder as he thrust harder, his labored breaths skimming over the angels neck.

Castiel slowly lifted his head from Dean's shoulder, lips parted, face flushed, eyes passion glazed as he looked at his charge, slowly turning his head to look where Dean had indicated. 

Eyes widening seeing their reflection, feeling Dean touch his wings, the feel of their cocks sliding together, and the way their bodies were tightly pressed... Castiel shuddered all over, his wings bristling as he groaned, head tilting back. "De -" the angel groaned, muscle tense, body rigid as the first shot of cum left him, smearing between them. 

It was frightening enough to feel things he didn't know about, was embarrassed over, and didn’t completely understand. But then when the same pleasure hit him again and from the corner of his eye he could _see_ it happening in the bathroom mirror, Castiel's heart, Jimmy's heart, slammed against his ribs, his eyes growing comically wide, just before once again he was gone in the flutter of wings. A few large white feathers raining down were the only testament to the angel having been there a moment before.

Dean fell forward, his hands instinctively stretching out to break the fall. This time he didn't curse. Didn't shout. Didn't even mutter under his breath. He just curled his fist around his own cock, refused to imagine either the white winged angel... or his black winged brother, and forced his mind to think about the girl in the Budweiser ad that had always been a sure thing.

Ten minutes later, he was showered and out the door. Once he was inside his car, he knew he was safe from being found. He'd angel proofed it.


	7. Chapter 7

One hour later, Dean was in the nearest medium size town, drinking. He wasn't drunk, but he was feeling sorry for himself, and he was working things out in his mind... when he had no real business thinking in this condition. Occasionally his gaze would travel to a hot chick, but it was too much trouble now... somehow. Or his heart wasn't in it. He raised his beer bottle. "Another," he told the bar tender.

* * *  
This time when Castiel left, his clothes had gone with him, white dress shirt, tie and trench vanishing off the bedroom floor when he did. He had gone to find Anna, to make her explain to him how it was that he was suppose to just stay there. Face these emotions and feelings that were simply too much for an angel to bear. 

Of course, that had gotten Castiel a lecture on how unfeeling he was and how it wasn't that big of a deal. Then she'd questioned him about his wings. _Of course_ he liked his wings touched. He'd asked for it, but it didn't make the outcome any less frightening. And just when he had thought he had had it under control, he'd _seen_ it, and that had sent him back into panic mode again. 

Castiel stood outside, under a street lamp, with Anna at his side and his cell at his ear as he waited for Dean to pick up. The hunter had to know it was him, he'd only given the number to Bobby and he knew the only other person who would know it was Castiel. After the call went to voice mail a few times, he pulled the phone his ear with a sigh, closing it and glancing at Anna. "He won't answer." 

"Can you blame him?" Anna asked with a huff. 

Castiel raised a brow as he looked at her. 

"Cas, you ran out of the room _twice_!" Anna explained. 

Castiel tore his gaze away, staring off, and muscle in his jaw twitching. "I didn't... run." 

Anna gave Castiel a shove, which was about as effective as trying to shove a cement wall. "Go! Go find him!" she told Castiel, shooing him away. 

Castiel gazed at her for a long moment. "He doesn't want to see me." 

Anna shook her head, "Men..." she grumbled, storming past him.”If you aren't going to take my advice, don't call me!" she tossed over her shoulder as she continued walking away. 

Castiel clenched his jaw, "Anna!" he sighed, "Anna!" 

The other angel didn't turn around, only disappeared in a flutter of wings. 

Twenty minutes later, Castiel pulled open the door of the bar that he had finally tracked Dean to. Stepping inside he let his gaze roam over the patrons until he finally caught sight of his charge. Turning, he headed over toward him.

The instant Castiel took the seat next to his, Dean's gut clenched. He reminded himself that what happened at the cabin wasn't for real. He'd figured it out... all of it. "Look, I get it alright? Your little 'history repeats itself' lesson." He gave a bitter chuckle, "you angels... instead of just spitting it out, you come around with your little lessons... you don't think it hurts anyone, or it doesn't matter," he shook his head and lifted the beer bottle to his mouth. Swallowing, he set it down but held tight to it. "I think that's your cue to leave now. Mission accomplished."

Castiel frowned. "Lesson?" he shook his head, "I have no idea what you are referring to."

"Right. I'm not _that_ drunk." The baffled look on the angel's face pissed him off. "You never try to teach me lessons by tossing me into time periods... situations I'm supposed to learn from. That's not your style... or angel style." It wasn't a question.

Castiel's eyes narrowed as he looked at the hunter, "What situation did I toss you into for you to learn from?" he asked, face and voice back to being totally devoid of emotion.

Dean pointed, his finger tapping the angel in the chest. "I get it... alright... you're playing Sam. You're showing me what happened in.. hell." It had all made better sense inside his head, when he wasn't forced to explain it out loud... "Sam was evil when we first... when he..." He licked his lips and lowered his voice. "When he first fucked me. He used to hold me... be rough, take me hard." He looked down. "Then he came back to his senses, he remembered who he was and... it wasn't the same. When we made love he..." Dean frowned, swallowed over the lump in his throat. "You know, he never took me again? Yeah... but you already know that." 

Castiel listened silently, though his expression grew more and more confused.

Dean grabbed the beer and all but finished it. "See... once he remembered, he wasn't good with it. Brothers. But he pretended, _for me_ ," he nodded, "as much as he could, until he _checked out_. Maybe his sacrifice was his way out.. he didn't want to hurt me. And now you," he lifted angry eyes to the angel. "You felt sorry for me, tried to fill the motherfucking crater where my heart used to be. And it was fine... until you saw... felt it's wrong. Angels and humans, just as fucked up and wrong as brothers. And then you _checked out_ on me too." He sniffed, wiping his hand over his face. "And this... this is your 'five minutes' back to fucking 'resolve things,' right? Well don't bother... stay the hell checked out. I don't need your lessons. What I need... you can't give." 

 

"You think that this... what happened was me 'dying' on you?" Castiel asked him, tearing his gaze away, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I went to see Anna. I was... confused. Scared." He gave a nod before looking back at Dean, "It won't happen again."

"You're right, it won't." Dean didn't believe him. Not this time, not now that he had it all figured. Nothing was gonna get him all messed up and confused again. "Hit me with another," his eyes held rebellion as he dared Cas to stop him from ordering.

"You don't believe me." 

"Nope." Dean waved the bar tender over, trying to rush him. 

Castiel sighed as he nodded before reaching out, laying two fingers on Dean's forehead and zapping him out of the bar and right back to the living room at the cabin. 

"Whoa... dammit," Dean cursed up a storm, finding Castiel standing only inches away, in front of him. "Don't do that! Now get me the hell back," he demanded hotly.

Castiel stared at him defiantly for long moment before tearing his gaze away. "No." 

"You don't get to do this to me, Cas. I want my car, dammit." Dean blew out a frustrated breath. "When did you get so fucking stubborn?"

Castiel looked back over at Dean, staring intently into the hunter's eyes, blue clashing with green. "I guess it's one of those things I caught from you," Castiel told him. 

"No. There's no chance of you catching _anything_ from me." He tried not to think about the last time Castiel had said that to him, how hot and heavy they'd been. "What do I have to do to make you understand you don't get to do this? I am _not_ your... your child. You can't tell me what to do or where to go." 

Castiel's azure eyes sparkled with an uncharacteristic anger. "No, but you _are_ my charge!" the angel all but yelled at him, taking the two steps that separated them and slanting his mouth over the hunter's. He put his arms around Dean, holding him, pressing their bodies together as he thrust his tongue into Dean's mouth. 

The element of surprise was on the angel's side. Before he knew it, Dean was being kissed within an inch of his life, his head swimming as he realized how tightly he was being held and that there was no space between them. Castiel had full control over the kiss and wasn't accepting anything less than a response. Groaning, Dean found his tongue tangling with angel's, found himself clinging to him, fingers clutching his trench coat. 

His mind was a little fuzzy. This was making it worse. Making him needy, making him want things that were lies, and the knowledge hurt more than the angel would ever know. When Castiel's mouth broke away, Dean was breathing heavily and watching him through passion glazed eyes. "I don't want your pity. I don't want your mercy. I don't want your playacting and I don't care if you've got the best intentions." His mouth burned. Every cell in his body screamed for him to pull Cas back, to demand he take up where they'd stopped, but he knew what came next and wouldn't risk it. 

The angel gave a small nod. "Fine," he answered, the word clipped. Licking his lips, Castiel searched Dean's face, slowly shaking his head. "Not acting," he tilted his head to the side, "I wouldn't... know how really," he said with a frown, before fitting his mouth over Dean's and pushing his tongue inside to paint along the interior of Dean's mouth before tangling their tongues together.

It hadn't been what Dean meant... hadn't been an invitation, but Cas was kissing him again... kissing him like he meant it, and despite everything, hope flared in Dean's chest. "Mmph," he kissed the angel back, figuring he could keep it under control. A kiss or two, and then he'd stop before they got to the lines that Cas couldn't cross.

 _"Don't freak out, just relax. Enjoy it. It's like cake. If you worry about it, you'll ruin it."_ Anna's words played over in Castiel's head as he kissed his charge, sliding one hand from around the hunter, to slip between them, working at the fastenings of Dean's jeans. 

The angel suddenly backed Dean up, slamming his back against the wall, their lips still crushed together, his other hand slipping around to help open the button and zipper. Reaching up to grip a handful of Dean's jacket and shirts, Castiel kept him held against the wall as he pushed his hand under the guy's jeans and cotton boxers to cup Dean's cock in his hand.

"Ungh..." It was the last thing he expected from the angel, this manhandling... rough play. It was exactly how he liked it... exactly how someone who wanted to tease him could get him going. Dean was kissing Castiel back so hard, his lips hurt and would be swollen. Yet he let their teeth clink, and chased the angel's tongue, finding his own pinned several times, like Cas was making a point.

 _"You're an angel. BE an angel. Take charge. Even if you don't know what you're doing, let instinct guide you."_ Again, Anna's words rang through Castiel's head as he wrapped his hand around Dean's shaft, squeezing and sliding his hand along his length, moaning into Dean's mouth as if he were the one being touched. 

A deep groan left Dean. There was nothing tentative or undecided about the way Castiel was touching him. It scared Dean... scared him to think the angel would stop. He tried to pull away from the wall, but was pushed back. Clearly, Cas wanted control. 

Dean pulled at the trench coat, trying to shove it off Castiel. The instant their mouths slipped off each other, he gasped for air. "Cas... if you're gonna stop, I swear you better do it now." He was thrusting hard into Cas' fist, his eyes wanting to close as the angel squeezed and stroked him just right. "If you stop later, I will hunt you down and kill you."

The angel gave a curt nod. "I might help you," he answered breathlessly, leaning in to slant his mouth back over Dean's as his hand continued to stroke his charge's hard flesh. His tongue tangled with Dean's, pinned it and controlled it, making the kiss his. When they ran out of breath, Castiel tore his  
mouth away from Dean's and shrugged his trench the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor behind him as he held Dean against the wall with his body, his hand pumping him harder, pivoting, thumb ghosting over the tip and smearing precum.

"Fuck... Cas," Dean bit his lower lip as he started working on the buttons on the angel's shirt, and cursing. "Need to wear tee shirts, fuck," he said, popping a button and moving lower, trying to concentrate even as Castiel got him all sorts of hard, working his cock. "Open this... dammit," he ground out, thrusting into the angel's fist.

In the next instant Castiel's white dress shirt was gone from his body laying and was in a puddle on the floor behind him. "Better?" the angel panted out, having rid himself of the shirt with angelic powers, so his hands hand never strayed from Dean's body, one hand still working his charge's cock, the other sliding up, fisting in Dean's short soft hair as the angel leaned back in, his mouth covering the Winchester's in another heated kiss.

"Oh God yes," Dean answered breathlessly, one arm circling Castiel's waist and moving up and down his bare back, the other over his shoulder, cupping the back of the angel's neck, pulling him close as their lips moved against each other. Their tongues dueled, sliding in and out of each others' mouths, battling the way they battled about Dean's needs... Castiel's ... about almost everything lately. Dean pressed closer, fucking into the angel's fist, one hand slipping down to grab Castiel's ass, knead it... his breaths getting more labored. He pulled back and met crystal blue eyes. "Bedroom."  
In the next instant that was where they were, the bedroom, Dean laying flat against the mattress, Castiel's body spread out over him as they kissed. He explored Dean's body, running his hand down along Dean's sides then back up across his chest, before sliding it all the way down to join his other hand inside his charge's jeans, cupping his balls as he stroked his cock. "Is this, this is what you like?" Castiel asked, words panting out though they still lacked emotion.   
Lifting his hips off the mattress and fucking into Castiel's fist, Dean gave a tortured "yeah... just like that... wings... later want to see them." Turning his head, he locked lips again with the angel, one hand raking his back with blunt fingernails, the other cupping the back of Cas' head and sliding up and down to his neck and back. As the heat between them escalated, Dean broke the kiss. "Why... why are you doing this, Cas. I want the truth..." he bit his lower lip as the angel squeezed him again. "Need to know... before we....fuck..." 

Castiel's gaze locked with Dean's, his movements pausing, though his thumb slid back and forth over the tip of the hunter's cock, "Because it's what you need, because you were given to me to care for, because you are mine, and because I want to give it, I want it." 

A moan broke from Dean. He struggled to keep his thoughts together, to figure out what he wanted... what he needed to say. "I want it... but only if you're doing this because you want it too... not because I need it, because _you_ need it." 

The angel tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing in confusion, "Wasn't that clear... before?"

"Why can't you say it?" Dean closed his eyes. "Why can't you just say 'Dean, I want you.' And mean it?" He needed the validation, needed it Goddamit, after all his doubts about Sam and then Castiel having fucking abandoned him too. 

Castiel's brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze for a long moment. _Humans need to feel, need to know their feelings are returned, Castiel. You can't be as unfeeling as we can be, as an angel. You're going to have to let yourself feel._ Anna's words played over in his mind. Slowly Castiel lifted his gaze, focusing intently on Dean's face, "Dean, I want to be your angel, I want to be your friend, the one you turn to for assistance, for comfort, for _love_ ," Castiel told him, giving a small nod. "I want you, now, tomorrow, always."

Dean's eyes fluttered open. Eyes locked with Castiel's, he got the words... the reassurance he needed, and more. "Didn't know you were a poet." Licking his lips, Dean pulled Castiel closer. "I want you too. Now, tomorrow... always," he repeated. With that, Dean felt the weight he'd been carrying lift from his shoulders. He wasn't one to be so needy, to second guess all the time... and he hated himself when he was like that. "We can stop talking now," he said, his breath suddenly leaving him when his cock was squeezed. "Ungh..." 

"Okay," Castiel gave a small nod, "No more talking." He leaned in, slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him like he had in the living room, tongue darting inside, running along the roof of his mouth, engaging Dean's tongue, tangling them together. His grip on his charge tightening, fingertips digging into Dean's flesh through his tee.

Another loud moan broke for Dean. His mouth slid back and forth against the angel's with bruising pressure, needing, wanting him... wanting the angel so bad every cell in his body was screaming for it. He clawed at Castiel, dragging his body down harder over him, lifting his own body up to rub against Cas'. Feeling the hard knot of the angel's erection pressing against his hip, Dean pushed his hand between them and ran his thumb hard over Castiel's shaft, following its form under the stretched material of his pants. "You gonna..." he licked his lips. "You gonna fuck me, Cas?" he asked, panting for air as he looked into crystal blue eyes that were no longer as sharp and clear as they'd been a short while ago. It made him feel good that he could affect the angel. 

Castiel gave a nod, "I was planning to... get funky... with you, yes." 

"You WHAT?" Dean fell back and took a breath. "Keep that up and you're gonna make me go soft. We'll have to start all over." Just where the hell had the angel picked that up?!

Castiel blinked at Dean. Wasn't that what humans said? The movie he had seen... Castiel gave a nod. "Not starting over. Continuing," he told him, leaning back in and slanting his mouth over Dean's, tongue darting inside to tangle with the hunters, kissing him hard, head sliding from side to side. Castiel pulled back, eyes narrowing slightly, the corners of his lips quirking just slightly. Both their clothes gone. "Better?"

Feeling the slide of naked flesh against naked flesh, Dean groaned, "oh God... yes." The slight smile had Dean's heart catching, then thudding louder. That was all for him, he knew it. He'd never seen the angel smile before, not ever. Hand still on Castiel's cock, this time with no material separating his palm from the angel's shaft, he squeezed, and stroked him a little, eyes locked with Cas'... burning with need. "Want you inside me. Fucking me. Want to clench around you until you can't help yourself and you're saying my name, over and over, Cas. Until both of us are burning up." His breaths were labored as he spoke and locked his legs around the angel, roughly pulling him back and forth, forcing him to rock over his body.  
Castiel's eyes squeezed closed at the feel of his Charge's hand squeezing his, Jimmy Novak's cock, pleasure singing along his vessel's veins. His lips parting as a low groan tore from his throat. The words that Dean spoke, they were not unlike things angels had heard before, but they were different in that they were directed _to_ him, were _about_ him, and it made Castiel at once proud and excited, his cock pulsing and twitching in the hunter's hand. Moving his body, thrusting against the human, _his_ human, the angel opened his eyes and nodded, "Want you, Dean. Want to mark you as mine," one hand moved, sliding up Dean's side, to lay against the hand print on Dean's shoulder, his gaze darting over to it, then back to Dean's eyes, "from the inside."

He was already marked from the outside. Dean's gut clenched when Castiel's meaning cut through the fog of lust in his mind. "Yes... inside and out, yes..." he licked his lips, and moved his hand between the angel's shoulder blades, fingers dancing over his spine right where he knew his wings were hidden. With his other hand, he stroked Cas again, then squeezing his knees around Castiel's sides, pushed him back a little. Opening the space between them, he positioned the angel's cock, and wiggled his ass, clenching and unclenching his cheeks around Cas' tip. "Yours... mark me now," he said thickly, needing so badly to connect, to have a family, to have something worth staying for, something worth fighting for in this world... something only for him.

Castiel's eyes closed on a low moan as Dean's fingertips danced over the spot where his wings would unfurl from, a shudder of pleasure rippling through his body. Opening his eyes, the angel looked down between them, was about to do as Dean wanted, push inside, make them one, mark his human as his, only to pause, tearing his gaze away from the sight of his cock at Dean's tight hole to look up into his face. "I'm not him, Dean." He gave a small shake of his head. "I can never be him. It's just me," Castiel said, needing his human to know, needing Dean to understand, to acknowledge that this was them and not Dean and his dead brother.

"I know." Dean's voice cracked, and tears filled his eyes, but he held the angel's gaze. "I know who I'm with.. who you are," he nodded, lifting his hips slightly. "YOU are who I need. Just you, Castiel... no one else." What had happened in hell had to stay in hell. He wasn't sure anymore if they'd even have been together once they walked the earth again. Sam had been different once he recognized Dean and knowing his brother, Dean wondered if Sam would have ever gotten over his guilt. 

Reaching up, he cupped Cas' head and started to pull him down. "I need _you_. Yours ... no one else's, I swear. I swear Cas," he whispered against the angel's lips. "I swear, just you... only you."

Castiel gave a barely there nod, slanting his mouth over his charge's as he reached down between them, pushing Dean's hand out of the way as he wrapped his own around his shaft, slowly thrusting his hips forward, pushing inside his charge, using angelic power to take away any discomfort Dean might have felt. His tongue sliding against Dean's, tangling their tongue's together, moans and soft mewls muffled against one anothers' lips as Castiel pushed his way balls deep inside _his_ human.

When the pain that he'd expected never came, Dean's eyes widened. And yet Cas was inside him, all the way, stretching him wide... filling him, the way he wanted to be filled. He clenched his muscles around Cas, gripping his thick cock tight, and moaning against the angel's mouth. They stayed like that for a while, kissing, rocking very slightly, learning each others' bodies. Dean's breaths started to come faster as the need to have Cas fuck him intensified.

He licked the angel's lips. "Take me... like this," he pleaded, then started to tongue fuck Cas hard, his tongue moving relentlessly in and out of the angel's mouth, flicking against his palette, stroking but avoiding getting caught by his tongue, sucking on Cas' tongue almost painfully hard, before letting go, and starting the tongue fucking again. His knees moved, pulling and pushing Castiel, trying to force him to move at a faster pace... to fuck him hard. 

Castiel tore his mouth away from Dean's, pulling his hips back and easily thrusting forward, his movements faster, but gentle, smooth and not hard. Catching Dean's wrists in his hands, the angel pinned them to the bed, "Stop! It's okay this way too. It doesn't have to be hard to be good."

"Why?" Dean demanded, his body shaking slightly, afraid all of this was going to be taken away too. He tried to rip his wrists off the bed, to put his arms our Cas, to drag him close... to make him fuck harder, but the angel wouldn't be budged. "Why?" he asked again, his mind starting to register the smooth thrusts that sent heat pooling low in his belly. "Cas?" Stubbornly, he continued to try to move the angel using his legs.

Castiel dipped his head, kissing along Dean's neck, his collarbone as he continued to thrust his hips, his cock into his human the same way. "Why not?" Castiel asked him softly. "Does it not send the same feeling through your body? Is it not as good?"

The sounds of his breaths panted out around them as he concentrated, his flesh goose bumping as Cas feathered kisses across his collar bone. What was wrong with this? He couldn't think of anything. This used to be how he liked to fuck... slow and easy, until the end. He used to like to enjoy every moment. He'd never done that... had that with a guy... because the only guy he'd been with had been...This was... this was _normal_.

Ashamed, he lowered his eyelids part way and started to relax into the pace the angel set. "Sorry... it's good," he said, in an anguished voice. "Been... been a long time since I've had 'normal.'"

Castiel came as close to actually smiling, really smiling as he never had before, the corners of his lips quirking upward. "Normal, he says to the _angel_ ," Castiel mumbled softly, lowering his head once more. 

Castiel kissed along the hunter's jaw, hands raised to cup his face, thumbs at his chin, tipping Dean's head back, as the angel rained open mouthed kisses along his flesh, down his neck, tongue darting out to lick across his collar bone. He reached between them again with one hand, wrapping it around Dean's cock, pumping him in time with the thrusts of his hips. Changing angles, Castiel made certain to hit the tiny bundle of nerves deep inside his human, his own breaths panting out hard against Dean's flesh, his wings slowly starting to unfurl from his back, stretching out spanning the width of the bed and beyond, the stark white tips dragging against the floor.

Biting his lower lip, Dean tilted his chin up, his gaze focused on the enormous wings spanning the bed, occasionally brushing over his face and legs. His wrists were freed, and he put his arms around the angel's shoulders, sliding his palms all the way back to the curve of Castie's wings, and gently stroking. He felt Castiel shudder. Saw the look on his face, and whispered. "Don't be afraid... nothing wrong with doing it like this, either." He stroked again, groaning as Castiel sent heat through his body with every squeeze of his hand, every thrust of his hips, and each kiss he trailed along his skin.

Castiel shook his head, "Afraid?" He wasn't as much afraid as that it wasn't every day that an angel got to have their wings stroked like this, the intense pleasure rippling along his own angelic form deep inside Jimmy Novack's body. His breaths panted out harder through parted lips, head tilting back as he squeezed his eyes closed, muscles clenching, wings fluttering. "Don't stop." Castiel ground the words out between gritted teeth, his thrusts coming slightly harder, faster, his arm wrapping around his human, pulling him closer, as his hand moved along Dean's cock, long pulling strokes as he pivoted his wrist.

"Really?" Dean asked, a sense of wonder filling him at Castiel's request. A part of him had expected the angel to order him to cut it out, not to plead for it like this. "I won't stop..." he promised, clenching his muscles tightly around the angel's cock as Castiel's hips pulled back, then loosening up as he pistoned inside him, grunting slightly. He was squirming, thrusting his own hips, his cock into Cas' fist, but his fascination with the angel's wings never waned. He gripped its edges when he was spasming with pleasure, and stroked the feathers when he could breathe... when he needed to see that look on Cas' face. Each time his fingers danced over Castiel's spine, over the wings, he knew he was pushing Cas a step closer to the edge, but not so fast that they'd lose out on this. Holding tight suddenly, he lifted his upper body, straining to reach Cas' wing with him mouth, and kissing along its ridge before falling back. 

Castiel moaned, eyes closing, breaths panting out through full lips as he thrust his hips, driving his cock deeper into his human, back arching as his wings were caressed, manhandled so beautifully, each touch sending spark waves of pleasure through the angel and pooling low in his groin. His hand squeezed Dean's cock tighter as he stroked him, long pulls along his hard flesh. 

His vessel's muscles tensing, and straining, Castiel lowered his head, crushing his lips to Dean's, kissing him hard and deep before tearing his mouth away. "You will always be mine," Castiel declared softly before leaning back in and slanting his mouth hover Dean's, this time kissing him gently, tenderly, worshipfully.

Dean smiled under Cas' mouth, moving against him, whispering "okay," when he finally could. "Always yours." He liked the sound of that, liked it a lot. It was comforting. it was permanent. It was a future... one he could look forward to, one that would wash away past pains, as Castiel had slowly been doing, all along. "You saved me before, from hell," he whispered hotly, moving harder against his lover, forcing him to rock harder and faster... but it was about finding release this time... not about repeating history. "You saved me again from hell, now. Who else would I belong to Cas?" He asked, clenching suddenly as tight as he could around the angel, and stroking his wings with more desperation. "Come... Cas come inside me..." he moaned, having trouble hanging on.

An angel's mind was not one that was easily filled with words of love and endearments and while he thought, _I wanted to be sure you knew that you no longer belonged to your brother._ He didn't say it, Castiel had at least been around humans long enough to know that saying that sort of thing got your face slapped right in the middle of a good make out session. 

When Dean clenched around him, his inner muscles tightening around his cock, Castiel groaned, eyes squeezing closed as heat pooled low and heavy in his groin, made his balls tighten, drawing up close to his body. The touch to his wings made the angelic being inside spasm, a hoarse cry falling from Castiel's parted lips as his hips bucked twice more, before he was coming, filling his human with his hot spunk. Marking him, claiming him, from this hell, just as he had the last.

"Yeah... oh yeah... yeah Cas," Dean kept chanting as he took everything the angel gave him, milking his cock dry, even as his own body seized up. His fingers bit into the angel's body, his balls drawing painfully tight. A deep moan broke from him, his hand covering Castiel's, making him stroke just a beat faster, and then he was coming, his legs clamping around Cas' waist as he heaved his body up, grinding himself against the angel... his angel, and coming hard ... making a sticky hot mess between them. 

"Cas?" he panted, kissing him tenderly as he managed to untangle their bodies, and roll over on top of him. He looked down, then pushed Castiel's wet hair off his forehead, and smiled. "You're _my_ angel. I mean... just so we're clear. No seeding the clouds with anyone else now that you're not a virgin."

Castiel gazed up at his charge, breaths panting out, still slightly dazed as he fought to catch his breath. His brow slowly furrowed as he looked at Dean. "Clouds are not seeded," he licked his lips, "masses of moisture are lifted upwards into the atmosphere. The trigger for this lift can be isolation heating the ground producing thermals, areas where two winds converge forcing air upwards, or where winds blow over terrain of increasing elevation. The moisture rapidly cools into liquid drops of water due to the cooler temperatures at high altitude, which appears as cumulus clouds. As the water vapor condenses into liquid, latent heat is released which warms the air, causing it to become less dense than the surrounding dry air. The air tends to rise in an updraft through the process of convection. This creates a low pressure zone beneath the forming thunderstorm." He shook his head, "Not seeded clouds." He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing, "What does that have to do with my no longer being a virgin?"

Dean stared at him. "Seed. Castiel, what is seed, and I mean in the _biblical_ sense?" he demanded, trying to rein in his frustration.  
Castiel frowned. "There are a few different meanings for 'seed'. Seed of a beast, seed meaning man, there is the seed that is the method of measuring land by means of the amount of seed that could be sown on it. The holy seed, Abraham's seed, children, and lastly, to sow one's seed." His eyes narrowed, "Which one were you referring to?"

"You and I are in bed together, we just fucked each others' brains out. What kind of seed do you _think_ I'm talking about," Dean asked through gritted teeth.

Castiel gave a small nod. "Alright," he said evenly, "You have nothing to be concerned about in regards to my _seed_ ," he cleared his throat nervously. 

"What do you mean?" Dean looked up at the ceiling, then back down at him. "You mean disease? You think I'm talking about disease here? A little late for that talk, don't you think?" 

"Disease? Angel's do not get sick, Dean," he told him. "I was talking about - what were _you_ talking about?"

"I was talking about your seed... and you poking your poker anywhere but..." He let out a frustrated breath, then closed his hand tightly around Castiel's cock. "This... mine. No fucking around with other angels or ... people or ... seeding the damned clouds. Just say 'yes', Goddamit," he leaned in and kissed the perplexed angel, then lifted his head. "What were _you_ talking about?"

Castiel gave a nod. "Yes, I mean no," he frowned, "I would not lay with anyone else." 

"Oh. Okay then." Dean found his smile. "Keep hanging around me, Cas, and you'll actually learn English... and I don't mean the biblical kind." He traced the angel's collar bone with his finger, back and forth. "Can I kiss your wings from behind you?" he asked. Seeing that perplexed look enter the angel's eyes again, he added, "I figure an angel letting someone do that is sort of like a cat letting you touch its belly, you know?"

Castiel eyed the Winchester "I can only assume that you mean it takes great faith and trust in the person they allow to do such a thing,", he said, tone voice of emotion. "I'm not the angel over animals, Dean." He gave a small shake of his head. Drawing in a breath, he gave a nod, "For you, yes. _Only_ you."

A brilliant smile lit up Dean's eyes. "Okay Cas, we'll save it for later. Thanks." Lowering his mouth, he kissed his angel, one hand on the side of his face, his mouth moving back and forth, tongue tangling with Castiel's, loving him. The clincher was Castiel's arms around him, holding him tight. Breaking the kiss, Dean nuzzled Cas' throat. "I'm happy Cas. For the first time... in a long... long time, I'm happy."  
Castiel gave a small nod, his arms around his charge tightening slightly, "I am... at peace too," he said softly, closing his eyes. 

"Peace." Dean snuggled closer. "Having known the opposite of peace, I'm gonna take that as a good thing," he said. "Wake me up when you want me to _play_ with your... _wings_." He smirked, and it had been a while since he'd done that too. Yeah, Dean Winchester was starting to feel like himself again. Like he'd risen from dead... the hard way.

* * *

For the next three months, Castiel would spend all the time he could spare with Dean. This meant if he wasn't on a mission, he was with Dean. He hadn't given up trying to convince Dean to take up arms and they sometimes argue about it. But he didn't push too much, not yet... there were lots of seals still in place for now.

For Dean's part, he drove around the country, stopped at places where he'd been before. With dad, with Sam. It didn't turn him into a melancholic mess, or even an alcoholic one. Really, it gave him that sense of peace that Castiel told him about. 

There were sometimes days and weeks where he wouldn't see the angel. Worry would eat at him, even though he knew damned well Castiel could take care of himself. As happy as he was when the angel did show up and had time, he wasn't crushed by the absences, and knew that was progress.

He'd taught the angel a lot. Cursing, drinking, phone sex, and porn, to start with. Nothing amused him more than to hear his serious faced angel let out an oath. 

He'd held fast to his refusal to join the good fight, but he found himself asking Castiel questions. Which seal had been taken. What were they doing to protect another one. Every time they spoke, he felt the angel's eyes on him. Castiel didn't have to say a word. He knew... he'd started this, he was the one who had to end this. But he'd failed the last time. Could he bear to fail again?

Then he'd seen something in the paper. An article about kids being found with all of their teeth pulled out of their mouths and claiming a monster had done it. He hadn't been able to walk away. And once he'd helped the town get rid of its monster, he'd found other monsters to fight. He didn't tell Castiel, but the angel probably knew. How could he not, when Dean's guns were around once more and he was making things like silver filled bullets, and sharpening his knives?

Dean was packing the trunk of his car when he felt a presence. Seeing as he was out in the boonies, and no one was around, he turned and grabbing Castiel by his shirt, pulled him close for a kiss. "Missed you," he muttered, once he pulled his tongue out of the angel's mouth. 

Castiel gave his version of a smile, a small up turning of the corners of his mouth, "Missed you too," he mumbled, against his charges jaw as he dipped his head to Dean's neck, kissing him there and sucking the skin into his mouth. Pulling his head back, Castiel cleared his throat, his gaze sliding from Dean to the gun filled trunk and back, though he said nothing. "Someone is killing Angels, I won't be back for a while. We think it may be one of the seals."

"Okay," he started, his eyes snapping to the angel's when the words sank in. "Killing angels... what do you mean someone's killing angels. You're hard to kill. Impossible. Almost." Denial and belligerence appeared to burn in his eyes, but mostly, he was worried. Castiel was not an alarmist, he was understated. That meant... yeah. "What's happening," he asked slamming the trunk shut and leaning against it, eyes on Cas.

"Seven angels have been killed recently. Not in the war, not while fighting. Murdered." He shook his head. "It's as if they didn't expect it. I have to find out who or what it is killing my brothers and sisters. If it's Lilith, they obviously were not on guard. We think it might be Lucifer's sword," he shook his head, lips pressed tightly together, face an emotionless mask.

"Lucifer's sword." Dean winced slightly. "And like a... an angel serial killer on the loose." The wheels turned in his head, in his heart. His hunter's blood churned, and his ties to Castiel made any other answer impossible. Family protected family. "Alright." He pushed off the car. "Get in. You can tell me what you know on the way to wherever we're going. Sight of the last murder?" he guessed. 

Castiel frowned, as much as he wanted Dean to go back to his calling, he didn't want him doing it for the wrong reasons. "Are you sure? I -" he eyed the hunter. "Is this what you want to do, Dean?" 

Dean raised a hand in front of Castiel's face, stopping him from going on. "We're not going to talk about this to death. I don't do chick flick moments. Now get in the car," he walked around to the driver's side and opened the door. He looked at the angel over the roof. "And later, if you're really good, and take control of the car... I'll introduce myself to that angel hard-on." He hadn't seen anything in Cas' pants, but now that the angel had gotten used to regular sex, he usually came to him pretty hard whenever he'd been gone a while.

A muscle twitched in Castiel's jaw as he regarded Dean over the roof of the car, his expression unreadable impassive as always. Slowly he raised his arms, bracing them on the roof, hands clasped together as he tore his gaze away from Dean to look around them before turned his head back, his eyes on the hunter. "Bitch." He delivered the joke with no inflection of voice, in monotone, and expressionless, before tugging the car door open and sliding inside....

Eyes widening in shock, Dean stared at the empty space where Castiel had stood. Then he started laughing. Hard. So fucking hard he had his hand on his stomach, it fucking hurt... hurt so damned good, and he knew... knew he'd _never_ be able to explain it to Castiel, but it didn't matter, it really didn't.

After a few minutes, he managed to get into the car but didn't dare to look at the angel. One look, and it would be over. Later, he'd have to straighten him out, and tell him who was the bitch, and who was the jerk. Right now... he just had to control the urge to laugh. One thing at a time.

Turning the ignition, he popped in a cassette, and backed the car out the dirt driveway of the old cabin he'd holed up at. There was nothing he could do about the grin spreading across his face, but he cleared his throat and asked an intelligent question about the murders they were going to solve.

* * *

Chuck sighed as he pulled the last page of the Winchester Gospel from his typewriter, his gaze on the paper as he turned to place it carefully in the box to be sent to the publishers. 

The entire gospel was now complete. From the first page, when Dean went to see Sam at college because John hadn't been back in a while, all the way to the last. 

_As he breaks, so shall it break'._

_The Winchester Gospel came to speak of how Dean Winchester was raised from hell after having broken the first seal. In the days after, there were battles over the remaining seals. Blood ran like rivers and there were countless losses, but the forces of hell was stopped before 66 seals could be broken. Stopped by the hunter and his angel, by other hunters and angels, and people who knew the truth and fought the good fight._

_Lucifer, having never had the chance to acquire Sam Winchester's body for use until his own was made ready was unable to rise. Hosts of angels worked to reseal that which had broken at first, confining the Morning Star to his prison once and for always._

_The Apocalypse averted, all things set to rights, Castiel was given the choice of new assignment. His request to merely remain at his charge's side, from now until the day Dean Winchester would walk the streets of paradise, was granted to him in acknowledgement of what he and Dean had accomplished for Heaven and for Earth._

_There was also a section of the gospel which spoke of the younger Winchester, of Sam, and how he had sacrificed himself for others, for what was right, for his brother, for family, for love. It told of how he now awaited his brother in heaven. Nor was Sam forgotten by his brother. According to the gospel, each time that Dean Winchester and Castiel, Angel of the Lord, saved a town, a family or an individual, Dean would whisper into the wind, 'This one's for you, Sammy.'_

Reaching for the box lid, Chuck carefully closed it over the stack of parchment. At long last, it was finished.

 

THE END


End file.
